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Lyra   Germanica  : 

HYMNS    FOR    THE    SUNDAYS    AND 

CHIEF   FESTIVALS  OF  THE 
CHRISTIAN   YEAR. 


■Co 


01  OF  PR.'.y^ 


V 


/; 


JUL  16  1934 


£gra  ©ermaniftfe  w      ^ 


HYMNS     FOR    THE    SUNDAYS    AND 

CHIEF  FESTIVALS  OF  THE 
CHRISTIAN  YEAR. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN  BY 

CATHERINE  WINKWORTH. 


NEW  YORK: 

THOMAS  N.  STANFORD, 

637   Broadway. 

1856. 


John  F.  Trow, 

Printer  and  Stereotyper.  Nos.  317  &  379  Broadway, 

Corner  of  White  street. 


TO  HIS  EXCELLENCY 

THE    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 

ETC.    ETC.    ETC. 

THESE    HYMNS    ARE,    BY    HIS    KIND    PERMISSION, 

RESPECTFULLY    AND    GRATEFULLY 

DEDICATED     BY 

THE  TRANSLATOR. 


PREFACE. 

,HE  following  hymns  are  fele&ed  from  the 
Chevalier  Bunfen's  "Verfuch  eines  allge- 
meinen  Gefang  und  Gebetbuchs,"  publifhed 
in  1833.  From  the  large  number  there  given, 
about  nine  hundred,  little  more  than  one  hundred 
have  been  chofen.  This  feleclion  contains  many,  of 
thofe  beft  known  and  loved  in  Germany,  but  in  a 
work  of  this  fize  it  is  impoffible  to  include  all  that 
have  become  claffical  in  that  home  of  Chriftian  po- 
etry. In  reading  them  it  mufl  be  remembered  that 
they  are  hymns,  not  facred  poems,  though  from  their 
length  and  the  intricacy  of  their  metres,  many  of 
them  may  feem  to  Englifh  readers  adapted  rather  to 
purpofes  of  private  than  of  public  devotion.  But 
the  finging  of  hymns  forms  a  much  larger  and  more 
important    part    of  public  worfhip  in  the    German 


VH1 


JJrefoa. 


Reformed  Churches  than  in  our  own  fervices.  It  is 
the  mode  by  which  the  whole  congregation  is  ena- 
bled to  bear  its  part  in  the  worihip  of  God,  anfwer- 
ing  in  this  refpecl:  to  the  chanting  of  our  own  Liturgy. 
Ever  fince  the  Reformation,  the  German  church 
has  been  remarkable  for  the  number  and  excellence 
of  its  hymns  and  hymn-tunes.  Before  that  time  it 
was  not  fo.  There  was  no  place  for  congregational 
finging  in  public  worihip,  and  therefore  the  fpiritual 
fongs  of  the  latter  part  of  the  middle  ages  aflumed  for 
the  moll  part  an  artificial  and  unpopular  form.  Yet 
there  were  not  wanting  germs  of  a  national  Church 
poetry  in  the  verfes  rather  than  hymns  which  were 
fung  in  German  on  pilgrimages  and  at  fome  of  the 
high  feftivals,  many  of  which  verfes  were  again  de- 
rived from  more  ancient  Latin  hymns.  Several  of 
Luther's  hymns  are  amplifications  of  verfes  of  this 
clafs,  fuch  as  the  Pentecoftal  hymn  here  given,  "  Come, 
Holy  Spirit,  God  and  Lord,"  *  which  is  founded  on 
a  German  verfion  of  the  "Veni  Sancte  Spiritus, 
Reple."  By  adopting  thefe  verfes,  and  retaining 
their  well-known  melodies,  Luther  enabled  his  hymns 

*  Page  1 1 7. 


JJrefaa. 


IX 


to  fpread  rapidly  among  the  common  people.  He 
alfo  compofed  metrical  verfions  of  feveral  of  the  Pialms, 
the  Te  Deum,  the  Ten  Commandments,  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  the  Nunc  Dimittis,  the  Da  nobis  Pacem,  &c. 
thus  enriching  the  people,  to  whom  he  had  already 
given  the  Holy  Scriptures  in  their  own  language, 
with  a  treafure  of  that  facred  poetry  which  is  the 
precious  inheritance  of  every  Chriftian  Church. 

The  hymn,  "In  the  midft  of  life,"*  is  one  of 
thofe  founded  on  a  more  ancient  hymn,  the  "Media 
in  vita"  of  Notker,  a  learned  Benedictine  of  St.  Gall, 
who  died  in  912.  He  is  faid  to  have  compofed  it 
while  watching  fome  workmen,  who  were  building 
the  bridge  of  Martinsbruck  at  the  peril  of  their  lives. 
It  was  foon  fet  to  mufic,  and  became  univerfally 
known ;  indeed  it  was  used  as  a  battle-fong,  until  the 
cuftom  was  forbidden  on  account  of  its  being  fup- 
pofed  to  exercife  magical  influences.  In  a  German 
verfion  it  formed  part  of  the  fervice  for  the  burial  of 
the  dead,  as  early  as  the  thirteenth  century,  and  is 
{till  preferved  in  an  unmetrical  form  in  the  Burial 
Service  of  our  own  Church. 


Page  235, 
1* 


x  tyxtfatt. 

The  carol,  "From  Heaven  above  to  earth  I 
come,"*  is  called  by  Luther  himfelf,  "a  Chriftmas 
child's  fong  concerning  the  child  Jems."  He  wrote 
it  for  his  little  boy  Hans,  when  the  latter  was  five 
years  old,  and  it  is  flill  fung  from  the  dome  of  the 
Kreuzkirche  in  Drefden  before  day-break  on  the 
morning  of  Chriftmas  Day.  It  refers  to  the  cuftom 
then  and  long  afterwards  prevalent  in  Germany,  of 
making  at  Chriftmas-time  reprefentations  of  the  man- 
ger with  the  infant  Jefus.  But  the  moft  famous  of 
his  hymns  is  his  noble  verfion  of  the  46th  Pfalm, 
"God  is  my  ftronghold  firm  and  fure,"f  which  may 
be  called  the  national  hymn  of  his  Proteftant  country- 
men. Luther's  hymns  are  wanting  in  harmony  and 
correclnefs  of  metre  to  a  degree  which  often  makes 
them  jarring  to  our  modern  ears,  but  they  are  always 
full  of  fire  and  ftrength,  of  clear  Chriftian  faith,  and 
brave  joyful  truft  in  God. 

From  this  time  there  has  been  a  conftant  fucceihon 
of  hymn-writers  in  the  German  church.  Paul  Eber, 
an  intimate  friend  of  Melanclihon,  wrote  for  his  chil- 

*  Page  12.  f  Pa§e  173- 


XI 


dren  the  hymn,  "Lord  Jefus  Chrift,  true  Man  and 
God,"*  which  foon  became  a  favourite  hymn  for  the 
dying.  Hugo  Grotius  afked  that  it  might  be  repeated 
to  him  in  his  laft  moments,  and  expired  ere  its  con- 
clufion,  Another  hymn  of  the  fame  clafs  is,  "O 
weep  not,  mourn  not,  o'er  this  bier,"f  the  "Jam 
mcefla  quiefce  querela"  of  Prudentius  II.  tranflated  by 
Nicholas  Hermann,  the  pious  old  precentor  of  Joa- 
chimflhal,  a  hymn  long  fung  at  every  funeral. 

The  terrible  times  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  were 
rich  in  facred  poetry.  Rifr,  a  clergyman  in  North 
Germany,  who  fufFered  much  in  his  youth  from  men- 
tal conflicts,  and  in  after  years  from  plunder,  pefti- 
lence,  and  all  the  horrors  of  war,  ufed  to  fay,  "the 
dear  crofs  hath  preffed  many  fongs  out  of  me,"  and 
this  feems  to  have  been  equally  true  of  many  of  his 
contemporaries.  It  certainly  was  true  of  Johann 
Heermann,  the  author  of  fome  of  the  moft  touching 
hymns  for  Paffion  Week,  who  wrote  his  fweet  fongs 
under  great  phyfical  fufFering  from  ill  health,  and 
amidft  the  perils  of  war,  during  which  he  more  than 
once  efcaped  murder  as  by  a  miracle.     So  too  the 

*  Paga  239.  f  f*age  249* 


xii  preface. 

hymns  of  Simon  Dach,*  profeflbr  of  poetry  in  the 
Univerfity  of  Konigfberg,  fpeak  of  the  fufferings  of 
the  Chriftian,  and  his  longing  to  efcape  from  the 
ftrife  of  earth  to  the  peace  of  heaven. 

But  the  Chriflians  of  thofe  days  had  often  not  only 
to  fuffer,  but  to  fight  for  their  faith,  and  in  the  hymns 
of  Altenburg  and  von  Lowenftern  we  have  two  that 
may  be  called  battle-fongs  of  the  church.  The  for- 
mer publiihed  his  hymn,  "Fear  not,  O  little  flock, 
the  foe,"f  in  163 1,  with  this  title:  "A  heart-cheer- 
ing fong  of  comfort  on  the  watchword  of  the  Evan- 
gelical Army  in  the  battle  of  Leipfic,  September  7th, 
163 1,  God  with  us."  It  was  called  Guftavus  Adol- 
phus'  battle-fong,  becaufe  the  pious  hero  often  feng  it 
with  his  army;  and  he  fang  it  for  the  lail  time  im- 
mediately before  the  battle  of  Lutzen.  The  latter, 
von  Lowenftern,  was  the  fon  of  a  faddler,  whom  the 
Emperor,  Ferdinand  III.  ennobled  for  his  public  fer- 
vices :  he  was  at  once  a  ftatefman,  poet,  and  mufician. 
His  hymn,  "Chrift,  Thou  the  champion  of  the 
band,"  J  was  a  favourite  of  Niebuhr. 

*  Pages  129  and  252.  f  Page  17. 

J  Page  105. 


tyxzfatt. 


Xlll 


Another  favourite  hymn  of  Niebuhr  was  the  hymn 
to  Eternity,*  the  greater  part  of  which  is  of  verv 
ancient  but  uncertain  date.  It  received  its  prefent 
form  about  the  middle  of  the  1 7th  century. 

Many  of  the  hymns  of  Paul  Gerhardt  belong  to 
this  period,  though  he  lived  until  1676,  long  after 
the  conclufion  of  peace.  He  is  without  doubt  the 
greatefl  of  the  German  hymn-writers,  pofTeffing  loftier 
poetical  genius,  and  a  richer  variety  of  thought  and 
feeling  than  any  other.  His  beautiful  hymn,  "Com- 
mit thou  all  thy  ways,"  is  already  well  known  to  us 
through  Wefley's  tranflation,  and  many  others  of  his 
are  not  inferior  to  it.  He  was  a  zealous  preacher  for 
feveral  years  at  the  Nicolai-Kirche  in  Berlin;  whence 
he  retired  becaufe  he  had  not  fufficient  freedom  in 
preaching  the  truth,  and  became  Archdeacon  of  Lub- 
ben.  With  him  culminated  the  elder  fchool  of  Ger- 
man facred  poetry,  a  fchool  diftinguifhed  by  its  depth 
and  fimplicity.  Moll:  of  its  hymns  are  either  written 
for  the  high  feflivals  and  fervices  of  the  Church,  or 
are  expreffive  of  a  fimple  Chriftian  faith,  ready  to 
dare  or  fuffer  all    things    for    God's  fake.     To    this 

*  Page  24. 


xiv  JJrtfatt. 


fchool  we  muft  refer,  from  their  fpirit,  two  hymns 
written  a  little  later;  the  firfl  is,  "Jefus  my  Redeemer 
lives,"*  one  of  the  mofl  favourite  Eafter  hymns, 
written  by  the  pious  Eleclrefs  of  Brandenburg,  who 
founded  the  Orphan  Houfe  at  Oranienburg.  The 
other,  "Leave  God  to  order  all  thy  ways,"f  was 
written  by  George  Neumarck,  Secretary  of  the  Ar- 
chives at  Weimar.  It  fpread  rapidly  among  the  com- 
mon people,  at  firft  without  the  author's  name.  A 
baker's  boy  in  New  Brandenburg  ufed  to  fing  it  over 
his  work,  and  foon  the  whole  town  and  neighbour- 
hood flocked  to  him  to  learn  this  beautiful  new  fong. 
In  the  latter  half  of  the  leventeenth  century  a  new 
fchool  was  founded  by  Johann  Franck,  and  Johann 
Schemer,  commonly  called  Angelus.  The  former 
was  burgomafter  of  Guben  in  Lufatia;  the  latter 
phyfician  to  Ferdinand  III.;  but  in  1663  he  became 
a  Roman  Catholic,  and  afterwards  a  prieft.  The 
pervading  idea  of  this  fchool  is  the  longing  of  the  foul 
for  that  intimate  union  with  the  Redeemer  of  the 
world,  which  begins  with  the  birth  of  Chrift  in  the 
heart,    and  is  perfected  after   death.     This  longing 

*   Page  93.  f  Page  152. 


preface.  xv 

breathes  through  the  hymns  of  Franck  given  in  this 
collection ;  one  of  them,  "  Redeemer  of  the  nations, 
come,"  *  is  a  tranflation  of  the  "  Veni,  Redemptor 
gentium"  of  St.  Ambrofe.  Angelus  dwells  rather  on 
the  means  of  attaining  this  union  by  the  facrifice  of 
the  Self  to  God  through  the  great  High-prieft  of  man- 
kind, an  idea  exprefled  in  his  hymns  with  peculiar 
tendernefs  and  fweetnefs.  We  find  much  of  his  fpirit 
and  fweetnefs  lingering  in  modern  times  about  the 
few  hymns  of  the  gifted  Novalis. 

The  greateft  poet  of  this  fchool  is  however  Ger- 
hardt  Terfteegen,  who  lived  during  the  early  part  of 
the  eighteenth  century  as  a  ribbon  manufacturer  at 
Muhlheim.  His  hymns  have  great  beauty,  and  be- 
fpeak  a  tranquil  and  childlike  foul  filled  and  blefTed 
with  the  contemplation  of  God.  The  well-known 
hymn  of  Wefley's,  "Lo  God  is  here !  let  us  adore," 
belongs  to  him,  and  in  its  original  fhape  is  one  of  the 
moft  beautiful  he  ever  wrote,  but  is  frequently  met 
with  only  in  a  disfigured  and  mutilated  form.  To 
this  fchool  belong  a  large  number  of  the  hymns  in 
this  collection,  among  which  thofe  of  Defzler,f  an 

*  Pa^e  1 86.  f  Pages  59,  147. 


XVI 


Jktfctce. 


excellent  philologift  of  Nuremberg,  and  of  Anton 
Ulrich,*  the  pious  and  learned  Duke  of  Brunfwick, 
are  particularly  good.  Thofe  of  Schmolck,  the  paf- 
tor  of  Schweidnitz,  who  exercifed  great  influence 
over  the  hymn-writing  of  his  day,  have  more  fimplicity 
than  molt  of  the  reft,  but  are  characterifed  by  a  curi- 
ous mixture  of  real  poetry  and  deep  feeling  with 
occafional  vulgarities  of  expreffion.  The  defecls  of 
this  fchool,  which  mowed  themfelves  ftrongly  in  the 
courfe  of  the  eighteenth  century,  were  a  tendency 
that  the  feeling  mould  degenerate  into  fentimentality, 
and  the  devout  dwelling  of  the  heart  on  Chrift's  great 
facrifice  into  compaffion  and  gratitude  for  His  phyfi- 
cal  fufFerings, — defedls  which  greatly  disfigure  many 
of  the  Moravian  hymns.  In  fome  of  the  hymns  here 
tranflated  the  expreffion  "Chrifti  Wundenhohle"  oc- 
curs, which  has  been  rendered  by  the  blood  or  crofs 
of  Chrift,  as  being  phrafes  at  once  more  fcriptural  and 
more  confonant  to  our  feelings.  There  were  not 
wanting  however,  even  at  this  period,  many  hymns  fit 
for  good  foldiers  of  Jefus  Chrift,  fuch  as  "Who  feeks 
in  weaknefs  his  excufe,"  f  and  others  of  the  fame  kind. 

*  Pages  145,  159,  220.  f  Page  l49- 


ijprefatt.  xvii 


Germany  is  rich  in  Morning  and  Evening  Hymns, 
and  Hymns  for  the  Dying,  of  which  a  few  are  given 
in  thefe  tranflations.  Among  thefe  is  the  morning 
hymn  of  Baron  von  Canitz :  I  was  not  aware  until 
after  tranflating  it  that  it  had  been  already  publifhed 
at  the  clofe  of  one  volume  of  Dr.  Arnold's  fermons. 

The  hymn  "Howbleft  to  all  Thy  followers,  Lord, 
the  road,"  *  was  the  favourite  hymn  of  Schelling. 

In  tranflating  thefe  hymns  the  original  form  has 
been  retained  with  the  exception,  that  Angle  rhymes 
are  almoft  invariably  subftituted  for  the  double  rhymes 
which  the  ftructure  of  the  language  renders  fo  com- 
mon in  German  poetry,  but  which  become  cloying  to 
an  Englifh  ear  when  often  repeated;  and  that  Englifh 
double  common  or  Ihort  metre  is  ufed  inftead  of  what 
may  be  called  the  German  common  metre,  the 
fame  that  we  call  Gay's  ftanza,  which  is  fcarcely 
folemn  enough  for  facred  purpofes.  In  a  few 
inftances  flight  alterations  have  been  made  in  the 
metre,  when,  as  is  the  cafe  with  fome  excellent  hymns 
in  our  own  language,  it  is  hardly  grave  and  dignified 
enough  for  the  poetry.  Thefe  alterations  are  but 
*  Page  175. 


XVI11 


ijprefact. 


flight,  and  feemed  juftifiable,  fmce  thefe  hymns  have 
been  tranflated,  not  fo  much  as  fpecimens  of  German 
hymn-writing,  as  in  the  hope  that  thefe  utterances  of 
Chriftian  piety  which  have  comforted  and  ftrength- 
ened  the  hearts  of  many  true  Chriflians  in  their 
native  country,  may  fpeak  to  the  hearts  of  fome 
among  us,  to  help  and  cheer  thofe  who  muft  ftrive 
and  fuffer,  and  to  make  us  feel  afrefh  what  a  deep  and 
true  Communion  of  Saints  exifts  among  all  the  chil- 
dren of  God  in  different  churches  and  lands. 


Alderley  Edge, 
July  1 6th,  1855. 


CONTENTS. 

IRST  Sunday  in  Advent.  The  Dawn 
Second  Sunday  in  Advent.  The  com- 
ing of  the  Day  of  the  Lord       .     . 
Third    Sunday  in  Advent.     Chrift 

the  Deliverer 

Fourth  Sunday  in  Advent.     Chrift  the  King 

of  all  men 

Christmas  Eve.     A  Carol 

Christmas  Day.     The  Word  made  flefh     . 
St.  Stephen's  Day.     A  Battle-Song  in  troubled 

Times 

St.  John  the  Evangelist.     Chrift  the  Life  of 

the  Soul 

Innocents'  Day.     The  childlike  heart    .     .     . 
Sunday  after  Christmas  Day.     The  Defire  of 

all  Nations 

Circumcision.     A  Hymn  for  New  Year's  Day 
Epiphany.     The  Manifeftation  of  the  Light  of 

the  World 

First  Sunday  after  Epiphany.     The  Chriftian 

Sacrifice 

Second  Sunday  after  Epiphany.     God's  Sove- 
reignty our  Stronghold  of  Hope  .... 
Third  Sunday  after  Epiphany.  The  Word  of 

God 

Fourth  Sunday  after  Epiphany.     A  Prayer  in 

mental  conflict. 

Fifth  Sunday  after  Epiphany.     A  Prayer  for 

the  Prefence  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the 

Church 


Page 
i 

4 

7 

10 

12 
15 


28 
24 

30 

32 

33 
36 
3« 

4* 


**  Contente. 


Sixth  Sunday  after  Epiphany.  Afpiration  after 

Purity  and  Holinefs 43 

Septuagesima  Sunday.  The  Chriftian  Warfare  46 
Sexagesima  Sunday.  A  Spring  Song  ...  48 
Quinquagesima  Sunday.     Love  the  Root  of  all 

Excellence 50 

„  „  Chrift    opening    the 

Eyes  of  the  Blind 53 

Ash  Wednesday.  A  Cry  for  Mercy  ...  55 
First  Sunday  in  Lent.     The  Lonelinefs  and 

Anguifh  of  Penitence 57 

Second  Sunday  in  Lent.     Clinging  to  Chrift  in 

utter  need 59 

Third  Sunday  in  Lent.  A  Warning  of  Judg- 
ment   61 

Fourth  Sunday  in  Lent.  Confeffion  of  Sin  .  63 
Fifth  Sunday  in  Lent.  Tarrying  for  Light  and 

Help 65 

Palm  Sunday.  Chrift's  Entry  into  Jerufalem  .  67 
Monday  in  Passion  Week.     Chrift   Weeping 

over  Jerufalem 70 

Tuesday  in  Passion  Week.     Chrift's  Death  our 

Purification 72 

Wednesday  in  Passion  Week.     Chrift's  Death 

our  Redemption 74 

Thursday  in  Passion  Week.      Our  Requital  of 

Chrift's  Love 77 

Good  Friday.     The  Crucifixion 80 

„  „  Evening.     The  Love  of  God  in 

Chrift 83 

Easter  Even.  Reft  in  the  Grave  .  .  .  .  85 
Easter  Day.  The  Triumph  over  Death  .  .  87 
„         „         Evening.  The  Refurreftion  from 

the  Death  of  Sin 89 

Monday  in  Easter  Week.     The   Benefits    of 

Chrift's  Refurrettion 91 

Tuesday  in  Easter  Week.     Chrift's  Life  the 

Source  and  Pledge  of  ours 93 


Contents. 


First  Sunday  after  Easter.     The  Kingdom  of 

Heaven  in  the  midft  of  us 96 

Second  Sunday  after  Easter.  The  Good  Shep- 
herd   98 

Third  Sunday  after  Easter.     A  Song  of  Joy- 
after  a  time  of  Sorrow      100 

Fourth  Sunday  after  Easter.  The  Indwelling 

of  the  Holy  Spirit 103 

Fifth  Sunday  after  Easter.  Chrift  the  Cham-  ■ 
pion  of  His  Church 105 

Ascension  Day.   The  Soul  longing  to  be  where 

Chrift  is 106 

Sunday  after  Ascension  Day.   The  Homeward 

Journey 108 

Whit  Sunday.  The  Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  no 

Monday  in  Whitsun-week.  The  Spirit  of  God 

the  Spirit  of  Love,  Joy,  and  Peace  .     .     .113 

Tuesday  in  Whitsun-week.  The  Spirit  of  God 

the  Witnefs  to  His  Son 117 

Trinity  Sunday.     The  Fount  of  Being,    the 

Word,  the  uniting  Spirit 119 

First  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The   Love   of 

God 121 

Second  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The  Love  of 

His  Children 124 

Third  Sunday  after  Trinity.  Peace  in  Trouble   126 

Fourth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     Sharing  the 

Crofs  and  the  Crown 129 

Fifth  Sunday  after  Trinity.    The  Good  Sol- 
dier of  Chrift     .     .     .     * 130 

Sixth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     Self-Surrender 

to  God 134 

Seventh  Sunday  after  Trinity.     A  Summer 

Song .   136 

Eighth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The  Spirit  of 

God  the  Fountain  of  Wifdom  and  Purity  .   140 

Ninth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The  Choice  .  142 


xxii  Contents 


Tenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.   Longing  of  the 

Heart  after  God 145 

Eleventh  Sunday  after  Trinity.     God's  Pre- 

fence  the  Source  of  all  Joy 1 47 

Twelfth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The  Sin  of 

Weaknefs 149 

Thirteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.    Truft  in 

God 152 

Fourteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.  The  Crofs 

our  Glory 154 

Fifteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.    The  Secret 

of  Content 156 

Sixteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     God's  fure 

Help  in  Sorrow 159 

Seventeenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.  The  Song 

of  the  Chriftian  Pilgrim 161 

Eighteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     Vow  to 

be  true  to  Chrift  in  an  Age  of  Apoftacy  .  165 
Nineteenth  Sunday    after  Trinity.     Living 

Faith 167 

Twentieth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     Rejoicing 

in  God  the  Creator,  Redeemer,  and  Sancli- 

fier 170 

Twenty-first  Sunday  after  Trinity.  Luther's 

Pfalm 173 

Twenty-second  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The 

Unfearchable  Wifdom  of  God  .  .  .  .175 
Twenty-third  Sunday  after  Trinity.     Afpi- 

ration  after  the  Life  Eternal 180 

Twenty-fourth  Sunday  after  Trinity.     The 

One  Thing  Needful 183 

Twenty-fifth  Sunday  after  Trinity.  Rejoice, 

the  Lord  is  at  hand 186 

St.  Andrew's  Day.  Following  Chrift  .  .  .188 
St.  Thomas  the  Apostle.     The  Soul's  Joy  in 

difcovering  Chrift,  the  link  between  God 

and  Man 191 


(ffontenta.  xxiii 


Presentation  in  the  Temple.     The  Song  of 

Simeon 193 

St.  Matthias.     The  True  Reft 195 

Annunciation.  The  Happinefs  of  the  Soul  that 

has  no  Will  but  God's 198 

St.  Barnabas.  The  Merciful  Providence  of  God  200 
St.  Michael's.  The  Miniftry  of  Angels  .  .  205 
All  Saints'.     The  Company  of  the  Bleft    .     .   207 

Hymns  for  the  Morning 213 

Hymns  for  the  Evening 225 

For  the  Sick  and  Dying 235 

For  the  Burial  of  the  Dead 249 

Index 255 


The  Tranflator  regrets  that  the  hymns  for  Innocents' 
Day  and  St.  John  the  Evangelift,  and  thofe  for  the 
Sunday  after  Chriflmas  and  the  Circumcifion,  have 
been  accidentally  tranfpofed. 


£gra  Qkrmanka- 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  ADVENT. 

The  night  is  far  fpent,  the  day  is  at  hand;  let  us 
therefore  caft  off  the  works  of  darknefs,  and  put  on 
the  armour  of  light. — From  the  Epistle. 

WATCHMAN,  will  the  night  of  fin 

Be  never  paft? 
O  watchman,  doth  the  day  begin 
To  dawn  upon  thy  ftraining  fight  at  laft? 
Will  it  difpel 
Ere  long  the  mifts  of  fenfe  wherein  I  dwell  ? 

Now  all  the  earth  is  bright  and  glad 

With  the  frefh  morn; 
But  all  my  heart  is  cold  and  dark  and  fad ; 
Sun  of  the  foul,  let  me  behold  Thy  dawn ! 

Come  Jefus,  Lord ! 
Oh  quickly  come,  according  to  Thy  word! 


£$xa  ©crmamcct. 


Do  we  not  live  in  thofe  bleft  days 

So  long  foretold, 
When  Thou  fhouldfl  come  to  bring  us  light 
and  grace? 
And  yet  I  lit  in  darknefs  as  of  old, 

Pining  to  fee 
Thy  glory  ;  but  Thou  ftill  art  far  from  me. 

Long  fince  Thou  cam'ft  to  be  the  light 

Of  all  men  here ; 
And  yet  in  me  is  nought  but  blackeft  night. 
Wilt  Thou  not  then  to  me,  Thine  own,  appear? 

Shine  forth  and  blefs 
My  foul  with  vifion  of  Thy  righteoufnels ! 

If  thus  in  darknefs  ever  left, 

Can  I  fulfil 
The  works  of  light,  while  of  all  light  bereft? 
How  fhall  I  learn  in  love  and  meeknefs  ftill 

To  follow  Thee, 
And  all  the  finful  works  of  darknefs  flee ? 

The  light  of  reafon  cannot  give 

Life  to  my  foul; 
Jefus  alone  can  make  me  truly  live, 
One  glance  of  His  can  make  my  fpirit  whole. 

Arife,  and  fhine 
On  this  poor  longing,  waiting  heart  of  mine ! 

Single  and  clear,  not  weak  or  blind, 
The  eye  muft  be, 


Cgra  ©jcrmanica. 


To  which  Thy  glory  fhall  an  entrance  find ; 
For  if  Thy  chofen  ones  would  gaze  on  Thee, 

No  earthly  fcreen 
Between  their  fouls  and  Thee  muft  intervene. 

Jefus,  do  Thou  mine  eyes  unfeal, 

And  let  them  grow 
Quick  to  difcern  whate'er  Thou  doll  reveal, 
So  fhall  I  be  deliver'd  from  that  woe, 

Blindly  to  ftray 
Through  hopelefs  night,  while  all  around  is  day. 

Richter.      1704. 


Cjjra  ©armanua. 


SECOND  SUNDAY  IN  ADVENT. 

Behold  the  fig-tree  and  all  the  trees ;  when  they  now 
fhoot  forth,  ye  fee  and  know  of  your  own  felves  that 
fummer  is. now  nigh  at  hand.  So  likewife  ye,  when  ye 
fee  that  thefe  things  come  to  pafs,  know  ye  that  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  nigh  at  hand. — From  the  Gospel. 

WAKE,  thou  carelefs  world,  awake ! 
The  final  day  fhall  furely  come ; 
What  Heaven  hath  fixed  Time  cannot 
fhake, 
It  cannot  fweep  away  thy  doom. 
Know,  what  the  Lord  Himfelf  hath  fpoken 
Shall  come  at  laft  and  not  delay, 
Though  heaven  and  earth  fhall  pafs  away, 
His  fteadfaft  word  can  ne'er  be  broken. 

Awake!  He  comes  to  judgment,  wake! 

Sinners  behold  His  countenance 
In  beauty  terrible,  and  quake 

Condemn'd  beneath  His  piercing  glance. 
Lo  He  to  whom  all  power  is  given, 

Who  fits  at  God's  right  hand  on  high, 

In  fire  and  thunder  draweth  nigh 
To  judge  all  nations  under  Heaven. 


£m*ct  ©trmamcct. 


Awake,  thou  carelefs  world,  awake  ! 

Who  knows  how  foon  our  God  mall  please 
That  fuddenly  that  day  fhould  break; 

We  fathom  not  fuch  depths  as  thefe. 
O  guard  thee  well  from  lull  and  greed, 

For  as  the  bird  is  in  the  fnare, 

Or  ever  of  its  foe  aware, 
So  comes  that  day  with  filent  fpeed. 

The  Lord  in  love  delayeth  long 
The  final  day,  and  grants  us  fpace 

To  turn  away  from  fin  and  wrong, 

And  mourning  feek  His  help  and  grace. 

He  holdeth  back  that  beft  of  days, 
Until  the  righteous  mail  approve 
Their  faith  and  hope,  their  conftant  love; 

So  gentle  us-ward  are  His  ways! 

But  ye,  O  faithful  fouls,  fhall  fee 

That  morning  rife  in  love  and  joy; 
Your  Saviour  comes  to  fet  you  free, 

Your  Judge  fhall  all  your  bonds  deflroy : 
He,  the  true  Jofhua,  then  fhall  bring 

His  people  with  a  mighty  hand, 

Into  their  promifed  father-land, 
Where  fongs  of  victory  they  fhall  fing. 

Rejoice!  the  fig-tree  fhows  her  green, 
The  fpringing  year  is  in  its  prime, 

The  little  flowers  afrefh  are  feen, 

We  gather  ftrength  in  this  great  time. 


/ 


Cgrct  (Btvmanka. 


The  glorious  fummer  draweth  near, 
When  all  this  body's  earthly  load, 
In  light  that  morning  fheds  abroad, 

Shall  wax  as  funshine  pure  and  clear. 

Arife,  and  let  us  day  and  night 

Pray  in  the  Spirit  ceafelefsly, 
That  we  may  heed  our  Lord  aright, 

And  ever  in  His  prefence  be. 
Arife,  and  let  us  hafte  to  meet 

The  Bridegroom  Handing  at  the  door, 

That  with  the  angels  evermore 
We  too  may  worfhip  at  His  feet. 

Rist.     1651. 


Cgrct  ©crmmttca. 


THIRD  SUNDAY  IN  ADVENT. 

And  it  fhall  be  faid  in  that  day;  Lo!  this  is  our  God, 
we  have  waited  for  Him,  and  He  will  fave  us ;  this  is 
the  Lord,  we  have  waited  for  Him,  and  we  will  re- 
joice in  His  falvation. — From  the  Lesson. 

OW  fhall  I  meet  Thee?  How  my  heart 
Receive  her  Lord  aright  ? 
Defire  of  all  the  earth  Thou  art ! 
My  hope,  my  fole  delight! 
Kindle  the  lamp,  Thou  Lord,  alone, 

Half  dying  in  my  breafl, 
And  make  thy  gracious  pleafure  known 
How  I  may  greet  Thee  heft. 

Her  budding  boughs  and  faireft  palms 

Thy  Zion  ftrews  around; 
And  fongs  of  praife  and  fweetefl  pfalms 

From  my  glad  heart  fhall  found. 
My  defert  foul  breaks  forth  in  flowers, 

Rejoicing  in  Thy  fame; 
And  puts  forth  all  her  fieeping  powers 

To  honour  Jems'  name. 

In  heavy  bonds  I  languifh'd  long, 

Thou  com'ft.  to  fet  me  free; 
The  fcorn  of  every  mocking  tongue — 

Thou  com'ft  to  honour  me. 


€ma  <&txmanita. 


A  heavenly  crown  Thou  doll  bellow, 

And  gifts  of  pricelefs  worth, 
That  vanifh  not  as  here  below 

The  riches  of  the  earth. 

Nought,  nought,  dear  Lord !  had  power  to  move 

Thee  from  Thy  rightful  place, 
Save  that  almighty  wondrous  Love 

Wherewith  Thou  doll  embrace 
This  weary  world  and  all  her  woe, 

Her  load  of  grief  and  ill 
And  forrow,  more  than  man  can  know; 

Thy  love  is  deeper  Hill. 

Oh  write  this  promife  in  your  heart, 

Ye  fad  at  heart,  with  whom 
Sorrows  fall  thick,  and  joys  depart, 

And  darker  grows  your  gloom. 
Defpair  not,  for  your  help  is  near, 

He  llandeth  at  the  door 
Who  bell  can  comfort  you  and  cheer, 

He  comes,  nor  llayeth  more. 

Vex  not  your  fouls  with  care,  nor  grieve 

And  labour  longer  thus, 
As  though  your  arm  could  ought  achieve, 

And  bring  Him  down  to  us! 
He  comes,  He  comes  with  ready  will, 

By  pity  moved  alone, 
All  pain  to  foothe,  all  tears  to  Hill, 

To  Him  they  all  are  known. 


£t)rct  (&txman\ca. 


Ye  fhall  not  fhrink  nor  turn  afide, 

Fearing  to  fee  His  face 
So  deep  your  fins,  for  He  will  hide 

The  darkeft  with  His  grace. 
He  comes,  He  comes,  to  fave  from  fin, 

All  finners  to  releafe, 
For  all  the  fons  of  God  to  win 

The  heritage  of  peace. 

Why  afk  ye  what  the  wicked  faith, 

Why  heed  his  craft  and  fpite? 
The  Lord  deftroys  him  with  a  breath, 

He  ftands  not  in  His  fight. 
Chrift  comes,  He  comes,  as  King  to  reign! 

Then  gather  ye  His  foes, 
From  earth's  far  corners;  yet  in  vain 

Would  ye  His  rule  oppofe. 

He  comes  to  judge  the  earth,  and  ye 

Who  mock'd  Him,  feel  His  wrath; 
But  they  who  loved  and  fought  Him  fee 

His  light  o'er  all  their  path. 
O  Sun  of  Righteoufnefs !  arife, 

And  guide  us  on  our  way, 
To  yon  fair  manfion  in  the  fkies 

Of  joyous,  cloudlefs  day. 

Paul  Gerhardt.      1653. 


10  fgrcr  ©mtwnicct. 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  IN  ADVENT. 

Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alway,  and  again  I  fay  unto  you, 
Rejoice  .  .  .  The  Lord  is  at  hand. — From  the  Epistle. 

IFT  up  your  heads,  ye  mighty  gates, 
Behold  the  King  of  glory  waits, 
The  King  of  kings  is  drawing  near, 
The  Saviour  of  the  world  is  here ; 
Life  and  falvation  doth  He  bring, 
Wherefore  rejoice,  and  gladly  fing 
Praife,  O  my  God,  to  Thee! 
Creator,  wife  is  Thy  decree! 

The  Lord  is  juft,  a  helper  tried, 

Mercy  is  ever  at  His  fide, 

His  kingly  crown  is  holinefs, 

His  fceptre,  pity  in  diftrefs, 

The  end  of  all  our  woe  He  brings ; 

Wherefore  the  earth  is  glad  and  fings 

Praife,  O  my  God,  to  Thee! 

O  Saviour,  great  Thy  deeds  fhall  be! 

Oh,  bleft  the  land,  the  city  bleft, 
Where  Chrift  the  ruler  is  confeft ! 
O  happy  hearts  and  happy  homes 
To  whom  this  King  in  triumph  comes ! 


£ma  ®*rmamccr. 


The  cloudlefs  Sun  of  joy  He  is, 
Who  bringeth  pure  delight  and  blifs; 

Praife,  O  my  God,  to  Thee! 

Comforter,  for  Thy  comfort  free ! 

Fling  wide  the  portals  of  your  heart, 

Make  it  a  temple  fet  apart 

From  earthly  ufe  for  Heaven's  employ, 

Adorn'd  with  prayer,  and  love,  and  joy; 

So  fhall  your  Sovereign  enter  in, 

And  new  and  nobler  life  begin. 

Praife,  O  my  God,  be  Thine, 

For  word,  and  deed,  and  grace  divine. 

Redeemer,  come !  I  open  wide 
My  heart  to  Thee,  here,  Lord,  abide ! 
Let  me  Thy  inner  prefence  feel, 
Thy  grace  and  love  in  me  reveal,  & 
Thy  Holy  Spirit  guide  us  on 
Until  our  glorious  goal  be  won ! 
Eternal  praife  and  fame, 
Be  offer'd,  Saviour,  to  Thy  Name ! 

Weiszel.     1635, 


12  iEgrct  ©ermanica. 

CHRISTMAS  EVE. 
A  Carol. 

Behold  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy  that 
fhall  be  to  all  people. — Luke  ii.  io. 


ROM  heaven  above  to  earth  I  come 
To  bear  good  news  to  every  home; 
Glad  tidings  of  great  joy  I  bring, 
Whereof  I  now  will  fay  and  fmg : 


To  you,  this  night,  is  born  a  child 
Of  Mary,  chofen  mother  mild; 
This  little  child,  of  lowly  birth, 
Shall  be  the  joy  of  all  your  earth. 

'Tis  Chrift  our  God,  who  far  on  high 
Hath  heard  your  fad  and  bitter  cry; 
Himfelf  will  your  Salvation  be, 
Himfelf  from  fin  will  make  you  free. 

He  brings  thofe  bleffings,  long  ago 
Prepared  by  God  for  all  below; 
Henceforth,  His  kingdom  open  Hands 
To  you,  as  to  the  angel  bands. 

Thefe  are  the  tokens  ye  fhall  mark, 
The  fwaddling  clothes  and  manger  dark; 


£#va  (Sermantca.  13 

There  fhall  ye  find  the  young  child  laid, 
By  whom  the  heavens  and  earth  were  made. 

Now  let  us  all  with  gladfome  cheer 
Follow  the  fhepherds,  and  draw  near, 
To  fee  this  wondrous  gift  of  God 
Who  hath  His  only  Son  bellowed. 

Give  heed,  my  heart,  lift  up  thine  eyes ! 
Who  is  it  in  yon  manger  lies? 
Who  is  this  child  fo  young  and  fair? 
The  blefled  Chrift-child  lieth  there. 

Welcome  to  earth,  Thou  noble  gueft, 
Through  whom  e'en  wicked  men  are  bleft ! 
Thou  com'ft  to  mare  our  mifery, 
What  can  we  render,  Lord,  to  Thee! 

Ah,  Lord,  who  haft  created  all, 
How  haft  Thou  made  Thee  weak  and  (mail, 
That  Thou  muft  choofe  Thy  infant  bed 
Where  afs  and  ox  but  lately  fed ! 

Were  earth  a  thoufand  times  as  fair 
Befet  with  gold  and  jewels  rare, 
She  yet  were  far  too  poor  to  be, 
A  narrow  cradle,  Lord,  for  Thee. 

For  velvets  foft  and  filken  fluff 
Thou  haft  but  hay,  and  ftraw  fo  rough, 
Whereon  Thou  king,  fo  rich  and  great, 
As  'twere  Thy  heaven,  art  throned  in  flate. 


£gva  ©ermanica. 


Thus  hath  it  pleafed  Thee  to  make  plain 
The  truth  to  us  poor  fools  and  vain, 
That  this  world's  honour,  wealth  and  might 
Are  nought  and  worthlefs  in  Thy  fight. 

Ah  deareft  Jefus,  Holy  Child, 
Make  Thee  a  bed,  foft,  undefiled, 
Within  my  heart,  that  it  may  be 
A  quiet  chamber  kept  for  Thee. 

My  heart  for  very  joy  doth  leap, 
My  lips  no  more  can  filence  keep; 
I  too  mull  fing  with  joyful  tongue 
That  fweeteft  ancient  cradle-fong — 

Glory  to  God  in  higheft  Heaven, 
Who  unto  man  His  Son  hath  given ! 
While  angels  fmg  with  pious  mirth 
A  glad  New  Year  to  all  the  earth. 

Luther. 
Written  for  his  little  fon  Hans.     1540. 


Cjira  ©ermcmica. 


CHRISTMAS  DAY. 

And  the  Word  was  mide  flefh,  and  dwelt  among  us. 

From  the  Gospel. 

THOU  eiTential  Word, 
Who  from  eternity- 
Dwelt  with  the  Father  and  waft  God, 
Who  art  ordain'd  to  be 
The  Saviour  of  our  race; 
Welcome  indeed  Thou  art, 
BlefTed  Redeemer,  Fount  of  Grace, 
To  this  my  longing  heart ! 

Come,  felf-exiftent  Word, 

Within  my  fpirit  fpeak, 
In  that  bleft  foul  where  Thou  art  heard 

Peace  dwells  without  a  break. 

Light  of  the  world,  abide 

Through  faith  within  my  heart, 
Leave  me  to  feek  no  other  guide, 

Nor  e'er  from  Thee  depart. 

Why  didft  thou  leave  Thy  throne, 

O  Jefus,  what  could  bring 
Thee  to  a  world  where  e'en  Thine  own 

Knew  not  their  rightful  King? 

Thy  love  beyond  all  thought, 

Stronger  than  Death  or  Hell, 
And  my  deep  woe,  this  wonder  wrought 

That  Thou  on  earth  doft  dwell. 


16  £$xa  ©jcrmanica. 

Wherefore  I  fain  would  give 

My  heart  and  foul,  dear  Lord, 
To  ferve  Thee  only  while  I  live 

And  fpread  Thy  fame  abroad. 

O  Jefus,  take  away 

This  ftony  heart  of  mine! 
Give  me  another  heart,  I  pray, 

That  fhall  be  wholly  Thine. 

Let  nought  be  left  within 

But  cometh  of  Thy  hand; 
Root  quickly  out  the  weeds  of  fin, 

My  cunning  foe  withftand. 

From  Thee  comes  nothing  ill, 

'Tis  he  doth  fet  the  tares; 
Make  plain  my  path  before  me  ftill, 

Save  me  from  all  his  fnares. 

Thou  art  the  Life,  O  Lord! 

Sole  Light  of  Life  Thou  art ! 
Let  not  Thy  glorious  rays  be  pour'd 

In  vain  on  my  dark  heart. 

Star  of  the  Eaft,  arife! 

Drive  all  my  clouds  away, 
Guide  me  till  earths  dim  twilight  dies 

Into  the  perfect  day ! 

Laurenti.      i  700. 


£ma  ©ermctmcct.  17 


ST.  STEPHEN'S  DAY. 

I  have  feen,  I  have  feen  the  affli&ions  of  my  people. 

From  the  Lesson. 

EAR  not,  O  little  flock,  the  foe 
Who  madly  feeks  your  overthrow, 
Dread  not  his  rage  and  power. 
What  though  your  courage  fometimes 
faints, 
His  feeming  triumph  o'er  God's  faints 
Lafts  but  a  little  hour. 

Be  of  good  cheer;  your  caufe  belongs 
To  Him  who  can  avenge  your  wrongs, 

Leave  it  to  Him  our  Lord. 
Though  hidden  yet  from  all  our  eyes, 
He  fees  the  Gideon  who  fhall  rife 

To  fave  us,  and  His  word. 

As  true  as  God's  own  word  is  true, 
Not  earth  or  hell  with  all  their  crew 

Againft  us  fhall  prevail. 
A  jeft  and  byword  are  they  grown; 
God  is  with  us,  we  are  His  own, 

Our  victory  cannot  fail. 


18  fjjra  ©ermanxca. 

Amen,  Lord  Jefus,  grant  our  prayer! 
Great  Captain,  now  Thine  arm  make  bare; 

Fight  for  us  once  again! 
So  mall  The  faints  and  martyrs  raife 
A  mighty  chorus  to  Thy  praife, 

World  without  end.     Amen. 

Altenburg. 

G  ufta vus  A  dolphus'  Battle-fong.     1 6  3 1 . 


£m*ct  (Scrmamca.  19 


INNOCENTS'  DAY. 

Except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as  little  children, 
ye  mail  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  Heaven. 

Matt,  xviii.  3. 

EAR  Soul,  couldft  thou  become  a  child 
While  yet  on  earth,  meek,  undefiled, 
Then  God  Himfelf  were  ever  near, 
And  Paradife  around  thee  here. 

A  child  cares  nought  for  gold  or  treafure, 
Nor  fame  nor  glory  yield  him  pleafure ; 
In  perfect  truft,  he  afketh  not 
If  rich  or  poor  mall  be  his  lot. 

Little  he  recks  of  dignity, 
Nor  prince  nor  monarch  feareth  he; 
Strange  that  a  child  fo  weak  and  fmall 
Is  oft  the  boldeft  of  us  all ! 

He  hath  not  ikill  to  utter  lies, 
His  very  foul  is  in  his  eyes; 
Single  his  aim  in  all,  and  true, 
And  apt  to  praife  what  others  do. 

No  queftions  dark  his.fpirit  vex, 
No  faithlefs  doubts  his  foul  perplex, 
Simply  from  day  to  day  he  lives, 
Content  with  what  the  prefent  gives. 


20  £vxQL  ©ormamca. 

Scarce  can  he  fland  alone,  far  lefs 
Would  roam  abroad  in  lonelinefs; 
Fall  clinging  to  his  mother  Hill, 
She  bears  and  leads  him  at  her  will. 

He  will  not  flay  to  paufe  and  choofe, 
His  Father's  guidance  e'er  refufe, 
Thinks  not  of  danger,  fears  no  harm, 
Wrapt  in  obedience'  holy  calm. 

For  flrange  concerns  he  careth  nought; 
What  others  do,  although  were  wrought 
Before  his  eyes  the  worfl  offence, 
Stains  not  his  tranquil  innocence. 

His  dearefl  work,  his  bell  delight, 
Is,  lying  in  his  mother's  fight, 
To  gaze  forever  on  her  face, 
And  neflle  in  her  fond  embrace. 

O  childhood'-s  innocence!  the  voice 
Of  thy  deep  wifdom  is  my  choice ! 
Who  hath  thy  lore  is  truly  wife, 
And  precious  in  our  Father's  eyes. 

Spirit  of  childhood !  loved  of  God, 
By  Jefus'  Spirit  now  bellowed; 
How  often  have  I  long'd  for  thee; 
O  Jefus,  form  Thyfelf  in  me ! 

And  help  me  to  become  a  child 
While  yet  on  earth,  meek,  undefiled, 
That  I  may  find  God  always  near, 
And  Paradife  around  me  here. 

Gerhardt  Tersteegen.      i  73  i. 


Cpra  (Smnamca. 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST. 

If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to 
thee  ?     Follow  thou  me. — From  the  Gospel. 

F  Thou,  True  Life,  wilt  in  me  live, 
Confume  whate'er  is  not  of  Thee ; 
One  look  of  Thine  more  joy  can  give 
Than  all  the  world  can  offer  me. 
O  Jelus,  be  Thou  mine  for  ever, 
Nought  from  Thy  Love  my  heart  can  fever, 
That  Thou  hail  promifed  in  Thy  Word; 
Oh  deep  the  joy  whereof  I  drink, 
Whene'er  my  foul  in  Thee  can  link, 
And  own  her  Bridegroom  and  her  Lord. 

O  Heart,  that  glow'd  with  love  and  died, 

Kindle  my  foul  with  fire  divine; 
Lord,  in  the  heart  Thou'ft  won,  abide, 

And  all  in  it  that  is  not  Thine 
Oh  let  me  conquer  and  deltroy, 
Strong  in  Thy  love,  Thou  Fount  of  Joy. 
Nay,  be  Thou  conqueror,  Lord,  in  me; 

So  fhall  I  triumph  o'er  defpair, 

O'er  death  itfelf  Thy  victory  fhare, 
Thus  fuffer,  live,  and  die  in  Thee. 


22 


Cgra  ©armanica. 


And  let  the  fire  within  me  move 

My  heart  to  ferve  Thy  members  here ; 

Let  me  their  need  and  trials  prove, 
That  I  may  know  my  love  fincere 

And  like  to  Thine,  Lord,  pure  and  warm ; 

For  when  my  foul  hath  won  that  form 

Is  likeft  to  Thy  holy  mind, 

Then  I  mall  love  both  friends  and  foes, 
And  learn  to  grieve  o'er  others'  woes, 

Like  Thee,  my  Pattern,  true  and  kind. 

The  light  and  ftrength  of  faith,  oh  grant, 

That  I  may  bring  forth  holy  fruit, 
A  living  branch,  a  blooming  plant, 

Faft  clinging  to  my  vine — my  root. 
Thou  art  my  Saviour,  whom  I  trull, 
My  Rock, — I  build  not  on  the  duft, — 
The  ground  of  faith,  eternal,  fure. 

When  hours  of  doubt  o'ercloud  my  mind, 

Thy  ready  help  then  let  me  find, 
Thy  ftrength  my  fickening  fpirit  cure. 

Nor  let  my  hope  e'er  fade  away, — 
Thy  crofs  the  anchor  of  my  heart, — 

But  let  her  rife  o'er  fear,  difmay, 

Conqueror  through  Thee;  mine  All  Thou  art. 

The  world  may  build  on  what  decays, 

O  Chrift,  my  Sun  of  Hope,  my  gaze 

Cares  not  o'er  lefler  lights  to  range ; 
To  Thee,  in  Love,  I  ever  cleave, 
For  well  I  know  Thou  ne'er  wilt  leave 

My  foul,  Thy  love  can  never  change. 


£j3ra  ©armanica.  23 

Wouldit  Thou  that  I  fhould  tarry  here, 

I  live  becaufe  Thou  willeft  it: 
Or  Death  fhould  fuddenly  appear, 

I  mall  not  fear  him,  Lord,  one  whit, 
If  but  Thy  Life  ftill  in  me  live; 
Thy  holy  death  my  ftrength  fhall  give 
When  earthly  life  draws  near  its  end; 

To  Thee  I  give  away  my  will, 

In  life  and  death  remembering  Hill 
Thou  feek'fl  my  good,  O  trueft  Friend. 

Sinold.      1 7 10. 


24  Cjira  ©muantca. 


THE  CIRCUMCISION  OF  CHRIST. 

Hymn  for  New  Year's  Day. 

So  teach  us  to  number  our  days  that  we  may  apply 
our  hearts  unto  wifdom. — Psalm  xc.  i  2. 

TERNITY!  Eternity! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity  ! 
And  yet  to  thee  Time  haftes  away, 
Like  as  the  warhorfe  to  the  fray, 
Or  fwift  as  couriers  homeward  go, 
Or  fhip  to  port,  or  fhaft  from  bow. 
Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 

Eternity!  Eternity! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 
For  even  as  on  a  perfedt  fphere 
End  nor  beginning  can  appear, 
Even  fo,  Eternity,  in  thee 
Entrance  nor  Exit  can  there  be. 
Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 

Eternity!  Eternity! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 

A  circle  infinite  art  thou, 

Thy  centre  an  Eternal  Now, 

Never,  we  name  thy  outward  bound, 

For  never  end  therein  is  found. 

Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 


€ma  ©ormcmka.  25 

Eternity!  Eternity! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 

A  little  bird  with  fretting  beak 

Might  wear  to  nought  the  loftieft  peak, 

Though  but  each  thoufand  years  it  came, 

Yet  thou  wert  then,  as  now,  the  fame. 

Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 

Eternity!  Eternity! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 
As  long  as  God  is  God,  fo  long 
Endure  the  pains  of  hell  and  wrong, 
So  long  the  joys  of  heaven  remain; 
Oh  lafling  joy,  Oh  lafting  pain! 
Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity ! 

Eternity!  Eternity! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 

O  Man,  full  oft  thy  thoughts  mould  dwell 

Upon  the  pains  of  fin  and  hell, 

And  on  the  glories  of  the  pure, 

That  both  beyond  all  time  endure. 

Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 

Eternity!  Eternity! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 
How  terrible  art  thou  in  woe, 
How  fair  where  joys  for  ever  glow ! 
God's  goodnefs  fheddeth  gladnefs  here, 
His  juftice  there  wakes  bitter  fear. 
Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 


26  jiyxa  ©jermanica. 

Eternity!  Eternity! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 
They  who*lived  poor  and  naked  reft 
With  God  for  ever  rich  and  bleft, 
And  love  and  praife  the  higheft  good, 
In  perfect  blifs  and  gladfome  mood. 
Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 

Eternity!  Eternity! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity  ! 
A  moment  lafts  all  joy  below, 
Whereby  man  finks  to  endlefs  woe, 
A  moment  lafts  all  earthly  pain, 
Whereby  an  endlefs  joy  we  gain. 
Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 

m 
Eternity !  Eternity ! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 
Who  ponders  oft  on  thee  is  wife, 
All  flefhly  lufts  mall  he  defpife, 
The  world  finds  place  with  him  no  more; 
The  love  of  vain  delights  is  o'er. 
Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity ! 

Eternity!  Eternity! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 

Who  marks  thee  well  would  fay  to  God, 

Here,  judge,  burn,  finite  me  with  Thy  rod, 

Here,  let  me  all  Thy  juftice  bear, 

When  time  of  grace  is  paft,  then  fpare ! 

Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 


£m<x  ®a*manica.  27 

Eternity!  Eternity! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 

Lo,  I,  Eternity,  warn  thee, 

O  Man,  that  oft  thou  think  on  me, 

The  miner's  punifhment  and  pain, 

To  them  who  love  their  God,  rich  gain! 

Ponder,  O  Man,  Eternity! 

WULFFER.        1648. 


28  #2ra  ©tfmanica. 


SUNDAY  AFTER  CHRISTMAS  DAY. 

Behold  a  Virgin  fhall  be  with  child,  and  fhall  bring 
forth  a  Son,  and  they  fhall  call  his  name  Emmanuel, 
which  being  interpreted  is,  God  with  us. 

From  the  Gospel. 

,HEE,  O  Immanuel,  we  praife, 
The  Prince  of  Life,  and  Fount  of  Grace, 
The  Morning  Star,  the  Heavenly- 
Flower, 
The  Virgin's  Son,  the  Lord  of  Power ! 

With  all  Thy  faints,  Thee,  Lord,  we  fing, 
Praife,  honour,  thanks  to  Thee  Ave  bring, 
That  Thou,  O  long-expecled  gueft, 
Haft  come  at  laft  to  make  us  bleft ! 

E'er  fmce  the  world  began  to  be, 
How  many  a  heart  hath  longed  for  Thee; 
Long  years  our  fathers  hoped  of  old 
Their  eyes  might  yet  Thy  Light  behold. 

The  prophets  cried :  "  Ah,  would  He  came 
To  break  the  fetters  of  our  ihame ; 
That  help  from  Zion  came  to  men, 
Ifrael  were  glad,  and  profper'd  then ! " 


£gva  (femcmka.  29 

Now  art  Thou  here;  we  know  Thee  now 
In  lowly  manger  lieft  Thou ; 
A  child,  yet  makeft  all  things  great, 
Poor,  yet  is  earth  Thy  robe  of  ftate. 

All  heavens  are  Thine,  yet  Thou  doll  come 
To  fojourn  in  a  ftranger's  home; 
Thou  hangeft  on  Thy  mother's  breaft 
Who  art  the  joy  of  fpirits  bleft. 

Now  fearlefs  I  can  look  on  Thee, 
From  fin  and  grief  Thou  fett'ft  me  free ; 
Thou  beareft  wrath,  Thou  conquerefl  Death, 
Fear  turns  to  joy  Thy  glance  beneath. 

Thou  art  my  Head,  my  Lord  Divine, 
I  am  Thy  member,  wholly  Thine, 
And  in  Thy  Spirit's  flrength  would  flill 
Serve  Thee  according  to  Thy  will. 

Thus  will  I  fing  Thy  praifes  here 
With  joyful  fpirit  year  by  year; 
And  they  fhall  found  before  Thy  throne, 
Where  time  nor  number  more  are  known. 

Paul  Gerhardt.     1650. 


3°  £gra  Cfemanka. 


EPIPHANY. 

Arise,  fhine,  for  thy  light  is  come,  and  the  glory  of 
the  Lord  is  rifen  upon  thee ! — From  the  Lesson. 

LL  ye  Gentile  lands  awake ! 

Thou,  O  Salem,  rife  and  fhine ! 
See  the  day-fpring  o'er  you  break, 
Heralding  a  morn  divine, 
Telling,  God  hath  calTd  to  mind 
Thofe  who  long  in  darknefs  pined. 

Lo  !  the  fhadows  flee  away, 

For  our  Light  is  come  at  length, 
Brighter  than  all  earthly  day, 

Source  of  being,  life,  and  ftrength ! 
Whofo  on  this  Light  would  gaze 
Muft  forsake  all  evil  ways. 

Ah  how  blindly  did  we  ftray 
Ere  fhone  forth  this  glorious  Sun, 

Seeking  each  his  feparate  way, 

Leaving  Heaven  unfought,  unwon ; 

All  our  looks  were  earthwards  bent, 

All  our  ftrength  on  earth  was  fpent. 

Earthly  were  our  thoughts  and  low, 
In  the  toils  of  Folly  caught, 


£ma  ©mnamcct.  3* 

Tofs'd  of  Satan  to  and  fro, 

Counting  goodnefs  all  for  nought ; 
By  the  world  and  flefh  deceived, 
Heaven's  true  joys  we  difbelieved. 

Then  were  hidden  from  our  eyes 

All  the  law  and  grace  of  God ; 
Small  and  great,  the  fools  and  wife, 

Wanting  light  to  find  the  road 
Leading  to  the  heavenly  life, 
Wander'd  loft  in  care  and  ftrife. 

But  the  glory  of  the  Lord 

Hath  arifen  on  us  to  day ! 
We  have  feen  the  light  outpour'd 

That  mull  furely  drive  away 
All  things  that  to  night  belong, 
All  the  fad  earth's  woe  and  wrong. 

Thy  arifing,  Lord,  fhall  fill 

All  my  thoughts  in  forrow's  hour ; 

Thy  arifing,  Lord,  fhall  ftill 

All  my  dread  of  Death's  dark  power : 

Through  my  fmiles  and  through  my  tears 

Still  Thy  light,  O  Lord,  appears. 

Let  me,  Lord,  in  peace  depart 

From  this  evil  world  to  Thee 
Where  thyfelf  fole  Brightnefs  art, 

Thou  haft  kept  a  place  for  me : 
In  the  radiant  city  there 
Crowns  of  light  Thy  faints  fhall  wear. 

Rist.     i6^>. 


0 


32  £gra  (Bmnanua. 


FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY. 

I  beseech  ye  therefore,  brethren,  by  the  mercies  of 
God,  that  ye  prefent  your  bodies  a  living  facrifice, 
holy,  acceptable  unto  God,  which  is  your  reafonable 
fervice. — From  the  Epistle. 


REAT  High-prieft,  who  deigndft  to  be 
Once  the  facrifice  for  me, 
Take  this  living  heart  of  mine, 
Lay  it  on  Thy  holy  fhrine. 


Love  I  know  accepteth  nought, 

Save  what  Thou,  O  Love,  haft  wrought ; 

Offer  Thou  my  facrifice, 

Elfe  to  God  it  cannot  rife. 

Slay  in  me  the  wayward  will, 
Earthly  fenfe  and  paffion  kill, 
Tear  felf-love  from  out  my  heart, 
Though  it  coft  me  bitter  fmart. 

Kindle,  mighty  Love,  the  pyre, 
Quick  confume  me  in  thy  fire, 
Fain  were  I  of  felf  bereft, 
Nought  but  Thee  within  me  left. 

So  may  God  the  Righteous  brook 
On  my  facrifice  to  look; 
In  whofe  fight  no  gift  has  worth 
Save  a  Chrift-like  life  on  earth. 

Angelus.     1657. 


Cgrct  ©mncmica.  33 


SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY. 

Lift  up  your  eyes  unto  the  heavens,  and  look  upon 
the  earth  beneath;  for  the  heavens  fhall  vanifh  away 
like  fmoke,  and  the  earth  fhall  wax  old  like  a  garment, 
and  the  people  that  dwell  therein  fhall  die  in  like  man- 
ner; but  my  falvation  fhall  be  for  ever,  and  my  right- 
eoufnefs  fhall  not  be  abolifhed. — From  the  Lesson. 

OD  liveth  ever ! 

Wherefore,  Soul,  defpair  thou  never! 
Our  God  is  good,  in  every  place 

His  love  is  known,  His  help  is  found, 
His  mighty  arm,  and  tender  grace 

Bring  good  from  ills  that  hem  us  round. 
Eafier  than  we  think  can  He 
Turn  to  joy  our  agony. 
Soul,  remember  'mid  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  defpair  thou  never ! 
Say,  fhall  He  flumber,  fhall  He  fleep, 
Who  gave  the  eye  its  power  to  fee  ? 
Shall  He  not  hear  His  children  weep 
Who  made  the  ear  fo  wondroufly? 

God  is  God;  He  fees  and  hears 
All  their  troubles,  all  their  tears. 
Soul,  forget  not  'mid  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns, 
c 


34  £gra  (femanica. 

God  liveth  ever! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  defpair  thou  never ! 
He  who  can  earth  and  heaven  control, 

Who  fpreads  the  clouds  o'er  Tea  and  land, 
Whofe  prefence  fills  the  mighty  Whole, 
In  each  true  heart  is  clofe  at  hand. 

Love  Him,  He  will  furely  fend 
Help  and  joy  that  never  end. 
Soul,  remember  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  defpair  thou  never ! 
Scarce  canft  thou  bear  thy  crofs?  Then  fly- 
To  Him  where  only  reft  is  fweet; 
Thy  God  is  great,  His  mercy  nigh, 
His  ftrength  upholds  the  tottering  feet. 

Truft  Him,  for  His  grace  is  fure, 
Ever  doth  His  truth  endure; 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever! 
O  my  Soul,  defpair  thou  never ! 
When  fins  and  follies  long  forgot 

Upon  thy  tortured  conscience  prey, 
O  come  to  God,  and  fear  Him  not, 
His  love  fhall  fweep  them  all  away. 
Pains  of  hell  at  look  of  His, 
Change  to  calm  content  and  blifs. 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pain, 
God  o'er  all  doth  ever  reign. 


£tiva  ©cvmamca.  35 

God  liveth  ever! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  defpair  thou  never! 
Thofe  whom  the  thoughtlefs  world  forfakes, 

Who  ftand  bewilder'd  with  their  woe, 
God  gently  to  His  bofom  takes, 

And  bids  them  all  His  fulnefs  know. 
In  thy  forrows'  fwelling  flood 
Own  His  hand  who  feeks  thy  good. 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  defpair  thou  never ! 
Let  earth  and  heaven  outworn  with  age, 
Sink  to  the  chaos  whence  they  came; 
Let  angry  foes  againft  us  rage, 

Let  hell  flioot  forth  his  fierceft  flame; 

Fear  not  Death,  nor  Satan's  thrufts, 
God  defends  who  in  Him  trulls ; 
Soul,  remember  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  defpair  thou  never! 
What  though  thou  tread  with  bleeding  feet 

A  thorny  path  of  grief  and  gloom, 
Thy  God  will  choofe  the  way  moft  meet 
To  lead  thee  heavenwards,  lead  thee  home. 
For  this  life's  long  night  of  fadnefs 
He  will  give  thee  peace  and  gladnefs. 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

Zihn.      1682 


36  Cgra  ©armanita. 


THIRD  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY. 

For  as  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  fnow  from 
heaven;  and  returneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the 
earth,  and  maketh  it  bring  forth  and  bud,  that  it  may- 
give  feed  to  the  fower,  and  bread  to  the  eater:  fo 
mall  my  word  be  that  goeth  forth  out  of  my  mouth : 
it  mail  not  return  unto  me  void,  but  it  mall  accom- 
plifh  that  which  I  pleafe,  and  it  mall  profper  in  the 
thing  whereto  I  fent  it. — From  the  Lesson. 

,HY  Word,  O  Lord,  like  gentle  dews, 
Falls  foft  on  hearts  that  pine; 
Lord,  to  Thy  garden  ne'er  refufe 

This  heavenly  balm  of  Thine. 
Water'd  from  Thee 
Let  every  tree 
Bud  forth  and  bloflbm  to  Thy  praife, 
And  bear  much  fruit  in  after  days. 

Thy  Word  is  like  a  flaming  fword, 

A  wedge  that  cleaveth  ftone; 
Keen  as  a  fire  fo  burns  Thy  Word, 
And  pierceth  flefh  and  bone. 
Let  it  go  forth 
O'er  all  the  earth, 
To  purify  all  hearts  within, 
And  matter  all  the  might  of  fin. 


Cgra  ®*rmamra.  37 

Thy  Word  a  wondrous  guiding  ftar, 

On  pilgrim  heirts  doth  rife, 
Leads  to  their  Lord  who  dwell  afar, 
And  makes  the  fimple  wife. 
Let  not  its  light 
E'er  fink  in  night, 
But  Hill  in  every  fpirit  mine, 
That  none  may  mifs  Thy  light  divine. 

Anon. 


i 


38  f£$va  ©jermanua. 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY. 

And  he  faith  unto  them,  Why  are  ye  fearful,  O  ye  of 
little  faith?  Then  he  arofe  and  rebuked  the  winds 
and  the  fea,  and  there  was  a  great  calm. — From  the 
Gospel. 

Y  God !  lo  here  before  Thy  face 
I  caft  me  in  the  duft ; 
Where  is  the  hope  of  happier  days, 
Where  is  my  wonted  truft  ? 
Where  are  the  funny  hours  I  had 

Ere  of  Thy  light  bereft? 
VaninYd  is  all  that  made  me  glad, 
My  pain  alone  is  left. 

I  fhrink  with  fear  and  fore  alarm 

When  threatening  ills  I  fee, 
As  in  mine  hour  of  need  Thine  arm 

No  more  could  fhelter  me; 
As  though  Thou  couldft  not  fee  the  grief 

That  makes  my  courage  quail, 
As  though  Thou  wouldft  not  fend  relief, 

When  human  helpers  fail. 

Cannot  Thy  might  avert  e'en  now 

What  feems  my  certain  doom, 
And  ftill  with  light  and  fuccour  bow 

To  him  who  weeps  in  gloom? 


&£va  ©mnantca.  39 

Art  Thou  not  evermore  the  fame? 

Haft  not  Thyfelf  revealed 
In  Holy  Writ,  that  we  may  claim 

Thee  for  our  ftrength  and  ihield? 

0  Father,  compafs  me  about 
With  love,  for  I  am  weak; 

Forgive,  forgive  my  finful  doubt, 

Thy  pitying  glance  I  feek; 
For  torn  and  anguiuYd  is  my  heart, 

Thou  feeft  it,  my  God, 
Oh  foothe  my  confcience'  bitter  fmart, 

Lift  off  my  forrows'  load. 

1  know  Thy  thoughts  are  peace  toward  me, 

Safe  am  I  in  Thy  hands, 
Could  I  but  firmly  build  on  Thee, 

For  fure  Thy  counfel  ftands! 
Whate'er  Thy  Word  hath  promifed,  all 

Wilt  Thou  full  furely  give; 
Wherefore  from  Thee  I  will  not  fall, 

Thy  Word  doth  make  me  live. 

Though  mountains  crumble  into  duft, 

Thy  covenant  ftandeth  faft  ; 
Who  follows  Thee  in  pious  truft, 

Shall  reach  the  goal  at  laft. 
Though  ftrange  and  winding  feem  the  way 

While  yet  on  earth  I  dwell, 
In  heaven  my  heart  mall  gladly  fay, 

Thou,  God,  doft  all  things  well! 


4°  £gm  ©jermatuca. 

Take  courage  then,  my  foul,  nor  fteep 

Thy  days  and  nights  in  tears, 
Soon  fhalt  thou  ceafe  to  mourn  and  weep, 

Though  dark  are  now  thy  fears. 
He  comes,  He  comes,  the  Strong  to  fave, 

He  comes  nor  tarries  more, 
His  light  is  breaking  o'er  the  wave, 
The  clouds  and  ftorms  are  o'er. 

Drewes.     i  797, 


&qv<x  ®*rmamca.  41 


FIFTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY. 

Oh  that  Thou  wouldeft  rend  the  heavens,  that  Thou 
wouldeft  come  down,  that  the  mountains  might  flow 
down  at  Thy  prefence . . .  To  make  Thy  name  known 
to  Thine  adverfaries,  that  the  nations  may  tremble  at 
Thy  prefence. — From  the  Lesson. 

WAKE,  Thou  Spirit,  who  of  old 
Didft  fire  the  watchmen  of  the  Church's 
youth, 
Who  faced  the  foe,  unfhrinking,  bold, 
Who  witnefs'd  day  and  night  the  eternal  truth, 
Whofe  voices  through  the  world  are  ringing  frill, 
And  bringing  holts  to  know  and  do  Thy  will! 

Oh  that  Thy  fire  were  kindled  foon, 
That  fwift  from  land  to  land  its  flame  might  leap ! 

Lord,  give  us  but  this  pricelefs  boon 
Of  faithful  fervants,  fit  for  Thee  to  reap 
The  harveft  of  the  foul;  look  down  and  view 
How  great  the  harveft,  yet  the  labourers  few. 

Lord,  let  our  earneft  prayer  be  heard, 
The  prayer  Thy  Son  Himfelf  hath  bid  us  pray; 

For  lo !  Thy  children's  hearts  are  ftirr'd 
In  every  land  in  this  our  darkening  day, 
To  cry  for  help  with  fervent  foul  to  Thee, 
Oh  hear  us,  Lord,  and  fpeak,  Thus  let  it  be! 


42  jLgra  ©jermanka. 

Oh  hafte  to  help  ere  we  are  loft ! 
Send  forth  evangelifts,  in  fpirit  ftrong, 

Arm'd  with  Thy  Word,  a  dauntlefs  hoft, 
Bold  to  attack  the  rule  of  ancient  wrong; 
And  let  them  all  the  earth  for  Thee  reclaim, 
To  be  Thy  kingdom,  and  to  know  Thy  name. 

Would  there  were  help  within  our  walls ! 
Oh  let  Thy  promifed  Spirit  come  again, 

Before  whom  every  barrier  falls, 
And  ere  the  night  once  more  ihine  forth  as  then! 
Oh  rend  the  heavens  and  make  Thy  prefence  felt, 
The  chains  that  bind  us  at  Thy  touch  would  melt! 

And  let  Thy  Word  have  fpeedy  course, 
Through  every  land  the  truth  be  glorified, 

Till  all  the  heathen  know  its  force, 
And  gather  to  Thy  churches  far  and  wide; 
And  waken  Ifrael  from  her  fleep,  O  Lord! 
Thus  blefs  and  fpread  the  conquefts  of  Thy  Word! 

The  Church's  defert  paths  reftore, 
And  ftumbling-blocks  that  long  in  them  have  lain, 

Hinder  Thy  Word  henceforth  no  more; 
Deftroy  falfe  doctrine,  root  out  notions  vain, 
Set  free  from  hirelings,  let  the  Church  and  fchool 
Bloom  as  a  garden  'neath  Thy  profpering  rule ! 

BOGATZKY.        I727. 


£gra  ©ermanka.  43 


SIXTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EPIPHANY. 

Every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in  him  purifieth  him- 
felf  even  as  He  is  pure. — From  the  Epistle. 

URE  Eflence!  Spotlefs  Fount  of  Light, 
That  fadeth  never  into  dark! 
O  Thou,  whofe  eyes,  more  clear  and  bright 
Than  noonday  fun,  are  quick  to  mark 
Our  fins;  lo,  bare  before  Thy  face 
Lies  all  the  defert  of  my  heart, 
My  once  fair  foul  in  every  part 
Now  ftain'd  with  evil  foul  and  bafe. 

Since  but  the  pure  in  heart  are  bleft, 

With  promifed  vifion  of  their  God, 
Sore  fear  and  anguifh  fill  my  breaft, 

Remembering  all  the  ways  I  trod; 
Mourning  I  fee  my  loft  eftate, 

And  yet  in  faith  I  dare  to  cry, 

O  let  my  evil  nature  die, 
Another  heart  in  me  create! 

Enough,  Lord,  that  my  foe  too  well 
Hath  lured  me  once  away  from  Thee; 

Henceforth  I  know  his  craft  how  fell, 
And  all  his  deep-laid  fnares  I  flee. 


44  &Qxa  ®armamca. 

Lord,  through  the  Spirit  whom  Thy  Son 
Hath  bidden  us  in  prayer  to  afk, 
Arm  us  with  might  that  every  talk, 

Whate'er  we  do,  in  Thee  be  done. 

Unworthy  am  I  of  Thy  grace, 

So  deep  are  my  tranigreffions,  Lord, 

And  yet  once  more  I  feek  Thy  face; 
My  God,  have  mercy,  nor  reward 

My  deepen'd  fms,  my  follies  vain; 
Reject,  reject  me  not  in  wrath, 
But  let  Thy  funfhine  now  beam  forth, 

And  quicken  me  with  hope  again. 

The  Holy  Spirit  Thou  haft  given, 
The  wondrous  pledge  of  love  divine, 

Who  fills  our  hearts  with  joys  of  heaven, 
And  bids  us  earthly  toys  refign; 

O  let  His  feal  be  on  my  heart, 
O  take  Him  never  more  away, 
Until  this  flefhly  houfe  decay, 

And  Thou  (halt  bid  me  hence  depart. 

But  ah!  my  coward  fpirit  droops, 
Sick  with  the  fear  that  enters  in 

Whene'er  a  foul  to  bondage  ftoops, 
And  wears  the  fhameful  yoke  of  fin; 

Oh  quicken  with  the  flrength  that  flows 
From  forth  the  Eternal  Fount  of  Life, 
My  foul  half-fainting  in  the  ftrife, 

And  make  an  end  of  all  my  woes. 


£ma  (Btxmamta.  45 

I  cling  unto  Thy  grace  alone, 

Thy  fteadfaft  oath  my  only  reft; 
To  Thee,  Heart-fearcher,  all  is  known 

That  lieth  hidden  in  my  breaft ; 
Thy  gladneis,  Spirit,  on  me  pour, 

Thy  ready  will  my  floth  infpire, 

So  mail  I  have  my  heart's  defire, 
And  ferve  and  praife  Thee  evermore. 

Freylinghausen.  ■  1 71 3. 


46  C^ra  (faztmanua. 


SEPTUAGESIMA  SUNDAY. 

I  therefore  fo  run,  not  as  uncertainly ;  fo  fight  I,  not 
as  one  that  beateth  the  air. — From  the  Epistle. 


TRIVE,  when  thou  art  call'd  of  God, 
When  He  draws  thee  by  His  grace, 
Strive  to  call  away  the  load 
That  would  clog  thee  in  the  race ! 


Fight,  though  it  may  coll  thy  life, 
Storm  the  kingdom,  but  prevail, 

Let  not  Satan's  fiercefl  flrife 

Make  thee,  warrior,  faint  or  quail. 

Wreftle,  till  through  every  vein 

Love  and  flrength  are  glowing  warm, 

Love,  that  can  the  world  difdain, 
Half-love  will  not  bide  the  florm. 

Wreflle,  with  flrong  prayers  and  cries, 
Think  no  time  too  much  to  fpend, 

Though  the  night  be  pafs'd  in  fighs, 
Though  all  day  thy  voice  afcend. 

Hall  thou  won  the  pearl  of  price, 
Think  not  thou  hall  reach'd  the  goal, 

Conquer'd  every  fin  and  vice 

That  had  power  to  harm  thy  foul. 


t'm*a  <6n*manica.  47 

Gaze  with  mingled  joy  and  fear 

On  the  refuge  thou  haft  found ; 
Know,  while  yet  we  linger  here 

Perils  ever  hem  us  round. 

Art  thou  faithful?  then  oppose 

Sin  and  wrong  with  all  thy  might ; 

Care  not  how  the  tempeft  blows, 
Only  care  to  win  the  fight. 

Art  thou  faithful  ?     Wake  and  watch, 
Love  with  all  thy  heart  Chrift's  ways, 

Seek  not  tranfient  eafe  to  fnatch, 
Look  not  for  reward  or  praife. 

Art  thou  faithful?     Stand  apart 
From  all  worldly  hope  and  pleafure, 

Yonder  fix  your  hopes  and  heart, 

On  the  heaven  where  lies  our  treafure. 

Soldiers  of  the  Crofs,  be  lbong, 
Watch  and  war  'mid  fear  and  pain, 

Daily  conquering  woe  and  wrong, 
Till  our  King  o'er  earth  mall  reign  ! 

Winkler.     1703. 


48  £qxql  (Bermanua. 


SEXAGESIMA  SUNDAY. 

Let  them  praife  the  name  of  the  Lord,  for  His  name 
alone  is  excellent;  His  glory  is  above  the  earth  and 
heaven. — Ps.  cxlviii.  13. 

OTHING  fair  on  earth  I  fee 
But  I  ftraightway  think  on  Thee ; 
Thou  art  faireft  in  my  eyes, 
(f-^^y  Source  in  whom  all  beauty  lies ! 

When  I  fee  the  reddening  dawn 
And  the  golden  fun  of  morn, 
Quickly  turns  this  heart  of  mine 
To  Thy  glorious  form  divine. 

Oft  I  think  upon  Thy  light 
When  the  grey  morn  breaks  the  night; 
Think,  what  glories  lie  in  Thee, 
Light  of  all  Eternity  ! 

When  I  fee  the  moon  arife 
'Mid  Heaven's  thoufand  golden  eyes, 
Then  I  think,  more  glorious  far 
Is  the  Maker  of  yon  ftar. 

Or  I  think  in  fpring's  fweet  hours, 
When  the  fields  are  gay  with  flowers, 
As  their  varied  hues  I  fee, 
What  muft  their  Creator  be! 


£m*ct  ©mnamca.  49 

When  along  the  brook  I  wander, 

Or  betide  the  fountain  ponder, 

Straight  my  thoughts  take  wing  and  mount 

Up  to  Thee,  the  pureft  Fount. 

Sweetly  fings  the  nightingale, 
Sweet  the  flute's  foft  plaintive  tale, 
Sweeter  than  their  richeft  tone, 
Is  the  name  of  Mary's  Son. 

Sweetly  all  the  air  is  ftirr'd 
When  the  Echo's  call  is  heard; 
But  no  founds  my  heart  rejoice 
Like  to  my  Beloved's  voice. 

Come  then,  fairefl  Lord,  appear, 
Come,  let  me  behold  Thee  here, 
I  would  fee  Thee  face  to  face, 
On  Thy  proper  light  would  gaze. 

Take  away  thefe  veils  that  blind, 
Jefus,  all  my  foul  and  mind; 
Henceforth  ever  let  my  heart 
See  Thee  truly  as  Thou  art ! 

Angelus.      1657. 


5°  £m*ct  ©ormcmica. 


QUINQUAGESIMA  SUNDAY. 

And  now  abideth  faith,  hope,  charily,  thefe  three; 
but  the  greateft  of  thefe  is  charity. — From  the  Epistle. 

ANY  a  gift  did  Christ  impart, 
Nobleft  of  them  all  is  Love ; 
Love,  a  balm  within  the  heart 
That  can  all  its  pains  remove; 
Love,  a  ftar  moil  bright  and  pure; 
Love,  a  gem  of  pricelefs  worth, 
Richer  than  man  knows  on  earth; 
Love,  like  beauty,  ftrong  to  lure; 
Love,  like  joy,  makes  man  her  thrall, 
Strong  to  pleafe  and  conquer  all. 

Love  can  give  us  all  things ;  here 

Ufe  and  beauty  cannot  fever ; 
Love  can  raife  us  to  that  fphere 

Whence  the  foul  tends  heavenwards  ever; 
Though  one  fpake  with  angel  tongues 

Braveft  words  of  ftrength  and  fire, 

If  no  love  his  heart  infpire, 
They  are  but  as  fleeting  fongs; 
All  his  eloquence  fhall  pafs, 
As  the  noife  of  founding  brafs. 


£ma  ©tt-mctmca.  51 

Keen-eyed  fcience'  fearching  glance, 

All  the  wifdom  of  the  world, 
Myfleries  that  the  foul  entrance, 

Faith  that  mighty  hills  had  hurl'd 
From  their  ancient  feats; — all  this, 
Wherein  man  takes  moil  his  pride, 
Valuelefs  is  call  afide, 
If  the  fpirit  there  we  mifs, 
That  can  work  from  love  alone-, 
Not  from  pride  in  what  is  known. 

Though  I  lavifli'd  all  I  have 

On  the  poor  in  charity; 
Though  I  Ihrank  not  from  the  grave, 

Or  unmoved  the  Hake  could  fee; 
Though  my  body  here  were  given 

To  the  all-confuming  flame; 

If  my  mind  were  Hill  the  fame, 
Meeter  were  I  not  for  heaven, 
Till  by  Love  my  works  were  crown'd, 
Till  in  Love  my  flrength  were  found. 

Faith  mull  conquer,  hope  mull  bloom, 

As  our  onward  way  we  wend, 
Elfe  we  came  not  through  the  gloom, 

But  with  earth  they  alfo  end. 
Thou,  O  Love,  doll  flretch  afar 

Through  the  wide  eternity, 

And  the  foul  array'd  in  Thee 
Shines  for  ever  as  a  liar. 
Faith  and  hope  mull  pafs  away, 
Thou,  O  Love,  endurefl  aye. 


S2  £m*a  (Btvmanka. 

Come,  Thou  Spirit  of  pure  Love, 

Who  doll  forth  from  God  proceed, 
Never  from  my  heart  remove, 

Let  me  all  Thy  impulfe  heed ; 
All  that  feeks  felf-profit  first, 
Rather  than  another's  good, 
Whether  foe  or  link'd  in  blood, 
Let  me  hold  fuch  thought  accurft; 
And  my  heart  henceforward  be 
Ruled,  infpired,  O  Love,  by  Thee ! 

Ernst  Lange.      171  i 


iCma  ©mncmica.  53 


QUINQUAGESIMA  SUNDAY. 

And  Jefus  faid  unto  him,  Receive  thy  fight;  thy  faith 
hath  faved  thee.  And  immediately  he  received  his  fight, 
and  followed  him,  glorifying  God. — From  the  Gos- 
pel. 

Y  Saviour,  what  Thou  didfl  of  old, 
When  Thou  waft  dwelling  here, 
Thou  doeft  yet  for  them,  who  bold 
In  faith  to  Thee  draw  near. 
As  Thou  hadft  pity  on  the  blind, 

According  to  Thy  Word, 
Thou  fufferedft  me  Thy  grace  to  find, 
Thy  Light  haft  on  me  pour'd. 

Mourning  I  fat  befide  the  way, 

In  fightlefs  gloom  apart, 
And  fadnefs  heavy  on  me  lay, 

And  longing  gnaw'd  my  heart; 
I  heard  the  mufic  of  the  pfalms 

Thy  people  fang  to  Thee, 
I  felt  the  waving  of  their  palms, 

And  yet  I  could  not  fee. 

My  pain  grew  more  than  I  could  bear, 

Too  keen  my  grief  became, 
Then  I  took  heart  in  my  defpair 

To  call  upon  Thy  name; 


54  £$xa  (&txma\\\ta, 

"O  Son  of  David,  fave  and  heal, 
As  Thou  fo  oft  haft  done ! 

0  deareft  Jefus,  let  me  feel 
My  load  of  darknefs  gone." 

And  ever  weeping  as  I  fpoke 

With  bitter  prayers  and  fighs, 
My  ftony  heart  grew  foft  and  broke, 

More  earneft  yet  my  cries. 
A  fudden  anfwer  ftill'd  my  fear, 

For  it  was  faid  to  me, 
"  O  poor  blind  man,  be  of  good  cheer, 

Rejoice,  He  calleth  thee." 

1  felt,  Lord,  that  Thou  ftoodeft  ftill, 

Groping  Thy  feet  I  fought, 
From  off  me  fell  my  old  felf-will, 

A  change  came  o'er  my  thought. 
Thou  faidft,  "  What  is  it  Thou  wouldft  have  ?" 

"Lord,  that  I  might  have  fight; 
To  fee  Thy  countenance  I  crave : " 

"So  be  it,  have  thou  Light." 

And  words  of  Thine  can  never  fail, 

My  fears  are  pall  and  o'er; 
My  foul  is  glad  with  light,  the  veil 

Is  on  my  heart  no  more. 
Thou  blefleft  me,  and  forth  I  fare 

Free  from  my  old  difgrace, 
And  follow  on  with  joy  where'er 

Thy  footfteps,  Lord,  I  trace. 

De  la  Mothe  Fouque. 


£m*cr  ©trmanua.  55 


ASH  WEDNESDAY. 

Gather  the  people,  .and  let  the  priefts,  the  minifters 
of  the  Lord,  weep  between  the  porch  and  the  altar, 
and  let  them  fay,  Spare  Thy  people,  O  Lord. — From 
the  Passage  for  the  Epistle. 

OT  in  anger  fmite  us,  Lord, 
Spare  Thy  people,  fpare  ! 
If  Thou  mete  us  due  reward 

We  muft  all  defpair. 
Let  the  flood 
Of  Jems'  blood 
Quench  the  flaming  of  Thy  wrath, 
That  our  fin  enkindled  hath. 

Father !  Thou  haft  patience  long 

With  the  fick  and  weak; 
Heal  us,  make  us  brave  and  ftrong, 
Words  of  comfort  fpeak. 
Touch  my  foul, 
And  make  me  whole 
With  Thy  healing  precious  balm; 
Ward  off  all  would  work  me  harm. 

Weary  am  I,  Lord,  and  worn 

With  my  ceafelefs  pain  ; 
Sad  the  heart  that  night  and  morn 

Sighs  for  help  in  vain. 


56  Cgra  ©jennanita. 

Wilt  Thou  yet 

My  foul  forget, 
Waiting  anxioufly  for  Thee 
In  the  cave  of  mifery  ? 

Hence,  ye  foes !  God  hears  my  prayer 

From  His  holy  place ; 
Once  again  with  hope  I  dare 
Come  before  His  face. 
Satan  flee, 
Hell  touch  not  me ; 
God  hath  given  me  power  o'er  all, 
Who  once  mock'd  and  fought  my  fall. 

Albinus.     1652. 


£m*ci  (Bn-mcmica.  57 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  LENT. 

Then  was  Jefus  led  up  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilder- 
nefs  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil.  And  He  failed  forty 
days  and  forty  nights. — From  the  Gospel. 

Mia  flranger  here,  on  earth  alone, 
When  mail  my  weary  days  be  pail  and 

gone  ? 
When  mail  I  find  fome  refpite,  fome  relief 
From  this  unfleeping  pain,  this  haunting  grief? 

The  joyful  fun  another  morning  brings, 
I  only  wake  to  feel  care's  piercing  flings  j 
The  foft  moon  comes  with  filent  night  and  fleep, 
And  bringeth  nought  to  me  but  time  to  weep. 

My  heart  and  confcience  forely  wounded  lie, 
Struck  by  the  arrows  of  Thy  wrath,  Mofl  High! 
From  morn  till  eventide  where'er  I  flee, 
I  find  no  hiding-place,  great  God,  from  Thee ! 

O  Lord,  be  not  Co  flricl  to  mark  my  crimes ! 
Great  God,  dofl  Thou  remember  yet  thofe  times 
Of  foolifh  thoughtleflhefs,  when  blind  and  young 
My  heart  to  this  world's  vain  delights  flill  clung? 

Wilt  Thou  then  alway  bear  my  fins  in  mind  ? 

What  offering,  what  atonement  can  I  find ! 
4-* 


58  Cgra  (Bnrmanica. 

Nought  have  I  of  mine  own  but  fin  and  wrong, 
Mercy  and  love,  O  Lord,  to  Thee  belong ! 

Oh  therefore  leave  me  not  the  wretched  prey 

Of  thofe  who  feek  to  take  my  life  away ! 

Yet  though  with  ftreaming  eyes  to  Thee  I  cry, 

No  anfwering  voice  comes  from  Thy  throne  on  high. 

Vain  are  my  tears  and  prayers,  vain  all  my  woe, 
While  Thou  doft  fight  againft  me  as  a  foe; 
The  zeal  of  Thy  juft  anger  and  Thy  might 
Have  plunged  my  foul  in  blackeft  depths  of  night. 

I  lit  alone ;  with  tears  I  bathe  my  cheeks, 
With  bitter  fighs  and  groans  my  fpirit  feeks 
For  Him,  who  veils  behind  the  clouds  His  face, 
x4nd  hears  not,  as  of  old  in  happier  days. 

Oh  that  I  had  a  dove's  fwift  wings !  Fd  fly 
Away  to  fome  far  mountain,  lone  and  high; 
Yet  could  I  not  efcape  His  mighty  hand 
Before  whom  all  things  bare  and  open  fland. 

Nay,  rather  let  me  fuffer  all  His  will, 
Though  His  fierce  anger  beat  upon  me  ftill, 
A  willing  heart  and  patient  mind,  O  God! 
I  bring  to  Thy  fevere  but  righteous  rod. 

Much  have  I  finn'd,  I  perifh  utterly 

If  my  mifdeeds  be  all  avenged  of  Thee ; 

Yet,  Lord  of  Holts,  doth  not  Thy  Word  proclaim, 

The  Merciful  is  Thy  moft  glorious  name ! 

Raisner.      1678. 


Cgvct  ©armcmica.  59 


SECOND  SUNDAY  IN  LENT. 

And  the  difciples  faid,  Send  her  away,  for  fhe  crieth 
after  us;  .  .  .  But  he  faid,  Great  is  thy  faith,  be  it 
unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt. — From  the  Gospel. 

WILL  not  let  Thee  go ;  Thou  Help  in 
time  of  need ! 
Heap  ill  on  ill 
I  truft  Thee  ftill, 
E'en  when  it  feems  as  Thou  wouldfl  flay  indeed! 
Do  as  Thou  wilt  with  me, 
I  yet  will  cling  to  Thee, 
Hide  Thou  Thy  face,  yet  Help  in  time  of  need, 
I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go;  mould  I  forfake  my  blifs? 
No,  Lord,  Thou'rt  mine, 
And  I  am  Thine, 
Thee  will  I  hold  when  all  things  elfe  I  mifs 
Though  dark  and  fad  the  night, 
Joy  cometh  with  Thy  light, 

0  Thou  my  Sun ;  mould  I  forfake  my  blifs  ? 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

1  will  not  let  Thee  go,  my  God,  my  Life,  my  Lord ! 

Not  Death  can  tear 
Me  from  His  care, 
Who  for  my  fake  His  foul  in  death  outpour'd. 


6o  Cgrct  ©ormamca. 

Thou  diedft  for  love  to  me, 
I  fay  in  love  to  Thee, 
E'en  when  my  heart  mall  break,  my  God,  my  Life, 
my  Lord, 
I  will  not  let  Thee  go ! 

Deszler.     1692. 


fima  ©ormanica. 


THIRD  SUNDAY  IN  LENT. 

Awake,  thou  that  fleepeft,  and  arife  from  the  dead, 
and  Chrift  mail  give  thee  light. — From  the  Epistle. 

WAKE,  O  man,  and  from  thee  fhake 
This  heavy  fleep  of  fin ! 
Soon  fhall  the  Higheft  vengeance  take, 
Soon  fhall  His  wrath  begin 
To  fmite  the  wretched  finner  home ; 
In  awful  terrors  He  fhall  come, 
To  mete  to  all  on  earth  their  due  reward, 
Only  the  righteous  fpares  our  angry  Lord. 

Come  then,  ye  finners,  great  and  fmall, 

Weeping  and  mourning  fore, 
Low  down  before  His  footflool  fall, 
And  vow  to  fin  no  more. 
In  faith  and  godlinefs  array 
Your  fouls  againft  that  final  day, 
So  fhall  ye  'fcape  His  wrath,  and  blefTed  die, 
Heirs  of  the  kingdom  with  your  Lord  on  high. 

O  lay  to  heart  this  wondrous  thought, 

Through  what  fore  agony 
And  death  was  your  redemption  bought, 

And  to  your  Saviour  flee 


62  €$xa  ®*rmcmica. 

Ere  yet  too  late;  the  world  difown, 

And  fix  your  love  on  Chrift  alone, 
And  do  His  will;  for  at  the  final  doom, 
Who  here  difhonour'd  Him  mall  wrath  confume. 

Turn  Thou  us,  and  we  mall  be  turn'd; 

Thou  broughteil  back  of  old 
Thy  itraying  people,  when  they  yearn'd 
After  their  proper  fold : 
Even  fo,  forgive  what  we  have  done, 
Accept  us  in  Thy  bleffed  Son, 
Thy  Holy  Spirit  ever  be  our  guide, 
That  we  may  fpread  Thy  praifes  far  and  wide ! 

Crasselius.      1697. 


Cgra  @*rmanica.  63 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT. 

Grant  we  befeech  Thee,  Almighty  God,  that  we, 
who  for  our  evil  deeds  do  worthily  deferve  to  be  pun- 
ifhed,  by  the  comfort  of  Thy  grace  may  mercifully  be 
lelieved;  through  our  Lord  and  Saviour,  Jefus  Chrift. 
— From  the  Collect. 

ERE,  O  my  God,  I  call  me  at  Thy  feet, 
Ready  to  fuffer  what  Thou  thinkeft  meet; 
Yet  look  on  me,  great  God,  with  pitying 
eyes, 
Reward  me  not  for  mine  iniquities ! 

Too  oft,  alas !  my  heart  hath  loved  to  ftray 
Downward  along  Sin's  broad  and  ealy  way; 
And  worldly  pride,  and  carnal  lulls  moll  foul 
Were  lhamelefs  cherilh'd  in  my  inmoll  foul. 

Thy  Majefly  have  I  offended,  Lord, 
And  fet  at  nought  Thy  law,  Thy  holy  Word ; 
I  had  not  learnt  Thy  righteous  wrath  to  dread, 
Nor  faw  the  vengeance  gathering  o'er  my  head. 

0  wretched  man,  what  evil  have  I  wrought! 
Now  in  the  fnares  of  Sin  a  captive  caught, 

1  learn,  O  Sin,  how  fell  and  keen  thy  fmart! 
O  wrath  of  God,  how  terrible  thou  art ! 


64  £m*cr  <&crmanica. 

Is  there  no  way,  can  I  no  helper  find, 
Who  can  thefe  heavy  chains  of  fin  unbind? 
Can  man  nor  creature  fhow  me  any  place, 
Where  I  may  flee  and  hide  me  from  God's  face? 

Nay,  I  mull  flee  to  God  Himfelf,  from  whom 
Our  life  and  help,  our  hope  and  fafety  come ; 
What  all  the  world  muft  unaccomplifh'd  leave, 
Thou,  for  Thou  art  Almighty,  canft  achieve. 

Think  on  the  covenant  Thou  haft  never  broken, 
Think  on  the  fteadfaft  oath  Thyfelf  haft  fpoken ; 
Know  that  I  am  a  God,  Thy  promife  faith, 
Who  hath  no  pleafure  in  a  finner's  death. 

Then  let  the  arms  of  love  be  round  me  thrown, 
Have  pity  on  me,  hear  my  bitter  moan, 
Call  back  Thy  fheep,  that  wandering  far  aftray, 
Was  loft  in  fin,  nor  knew  its  homeward  way. 

Grant  me  to  rule  my  inner  life  aright, 
And  aft  and  fpeak  as  ever  in  Thy  fight, 
A  friend  to  all  true  virtue,  but  a  foe 
To  all  Thou  hateft,  fins  and  follies  low. 

Thou  Merciful !  what  thanks  and  praife  fhall  be 
For  Thy  great  goodnefs  offer'd  unto  Thee, 
As  is  moft  meet;  while  here  my  days  I  fpend, 
And  yonder  in  the  world  that  (hall  not  end! 

Anon. 


Cgra  ©.ermamca.  65 


FIFTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT. 

Out  of  the  depths  have  I  called  unto  Thee,  O  Lord ; 
Lord,  hear  my  voice.  If  Thou,  Lord,  wilt  be  ex- 
treme to  mark  what  is  done  amifs,  O  Lord,  who  may- 
abide  it? — Ps.  cxxx.  1,  3. 

UT  of  the  depths  I  cry  to  Thee, 

Lord  God !  oh  hear  my  prayer ! 

Incline  a  gracious  ear  to  me, 

And  bid  me  not  defpair : 

If  Thou  remembereft  each  mifdeed, 

If  each  mould  have  its  rightful  meed, 

Lord,  who  mail  Hand  before  Thee  ? 

Lord,  through  Thy  love  alone  we  gain 

The  pardon  of  our  fin; 
The  ftritteft  life  is  but  in  vain, 

Our  works  can  nothing  win, 
That  none  mould  boaft  himfelf  of  aught, 
But  own  in  fear  Thy  grace  hath  wrought 
What  in  him  feemeth  righteous. 

Wherefore  my  hope  is  in  the  Lord, 

My  works  I  count  but  duft, 
I  build  not  there,  but  on  His  word, 

And  in  His  goodnefs  truft. 
Up  to  His  care  myfelf  I  yield, 
He  is  my  tower,  my  rock,  my  Ihield, 
And  for  His  help  I  tarry. 


66  £tn*a  ©mnantca. 

And  though  it  tarry  till  the  night, 

And  round  again  to  morn, 
My  heart  mall  ne'er  miftruft  Thy  might, 

Nor  count  itfelf  forlorn. 
Do  thus,  O  ye  of  Ifrael's  feed, 
Ye  of  the  Spirit  born  indeed, 

Wait  for  your  God's  appearing. 

Though  great  our  fins  and  fore  our  wounds, 

And  deep  and  dark  our  fall, 
His  helping  mercy  hath  no  bounds, 

His  love  furpafseth  all. 
Our  trufty  loving  Shepherd  He, 
Who  mail  at  laft  fet  Ifrael  free 

From  all  their  fin  and  forrow. 

Luther.      1524. 


Ctiva  (dtxmanka.  *>i 


PALM  SUNDAY. 

And  the  multitudes  that  went  before,  and  that  followed 
cried  faying,  Hofanna  to  the  Son  of  David;  bleffed  is 
he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord ;  Hofanna  in 
the  higheft. — Matt.  xxi.  9. 

OSANNA  to  the  Son  of  David !  Raife 
Triumphal  arches  to  His  praife, 

For  Him  prepare  a  throne 
Who  comes  at  laft  to  Zion — to  His  own  ! 
Strew  palms  around,  make  plain  and  ftraight  the 
way, 
For  Him  who  His  triumphal  entry  holds  to-day ! 

Hofanna  !  Welcome  above  all  Thou  art! 
Make  ready  each  to  lay  his  heart 

Low  down  before  His  feet ! 
Come,  let  us  haften  forth  our  Lord  to  meet, 
And  bid  Him  enter  in  at  Zion's  gates, 
Where  thoufand-voiced  welcome  on  His  coming  waits. 

Hofanna  !  Prince  of  Peace  and  Lord  of  Might  I 
We  hail  Thee  Conqueror  in  the  fight. 

All  Thou  with  toil  haft  won, 
Shall  be  our  booty  when  the  battle's  done. 
Thy  right  hand  ever  hath  the  rule  and  fway, 
Thy  kingdom  ftandeth  fall  when  all  things  elfe  decay. 


68  £gra  ©n*mantca. 

Hofanna !  beft-beloved  and  noble  Gueft ! 
Who  made  us  by  Thy  high  beheft 
Heirs  of  Thy  realm  with  Thee. 
O  let  us  therefore  never  weary  be 
To  Hand  and  ferve  before  Thy  righteous  throne, 
We  know  no  king  but  Thee,  rule  Thou  o'er  us  alone ! 

Hofanna !  Come,  the  time  draws  on  apace, 
We  long  Thy  mercy  to  embrace ; 

This  fervant's  form  can  ne'er 
Conceal  the  majefty  Thy  a£ls  declare: 
Too  well  art  Thou  here  in  Thy  Zion  known, 
Who  art  the  Son  of  God,  and  yet  art  David's  Son. 

Hofanna !  Lord,  be  Thou  our  help  and  friend, 
Thy  aid  to  us  in  mercy  fend, 

That  each  may  bring  his  foul 
An  offering  unto  Thee,  unftain'd  and  whole. 
Thou  wilt  have  none  for  Thy  difciples,  Lord, 
But  who  obey  in  truth,  not  only  hear  Thy  word. 

Hofanna!  Let  us  in  Thy  footfteps  tread, 
Nor  that  fad  Mount  of  Olives  dread 
Where  we  mull  weep  and  watch, 
Until  the  far-off  fong  of  joy  we  catch 
From  Heaven  our  Bethphage,  where  we  mail  ling 
Hofanna  in  the  higheft  to  our  God  and  King ! 

Hofanna  !  Let  us  found  it  far  and  wide ! 
Enter  Thou  in  and  here  abide, 
Thou  Bleffed  of  the  Lord ! 


fora  CSarmanica.  69 

Why  ftandeft  Thou  without,  why  roam'fl 
abroad  ? 
Hofanna !  Make  Thy  home  with  us  for  ever ! 
Thou  comeft,  Lord !  and  nought  us  from  Thy  love 
fhall  fever. 

Hallelujah. 

SCHMOLCK.        1 704. 


7°  Cum  (Sermamca. 


MONDAY  IN  PASSION  WEEK. 

And  when  He  was  come  near,  He  beheld  the  city, 
and  wept  over  it. — Luke  xix.  41. 

HOU  weepeft  o'er  Jerufalem, 
Lord  Jems,  bitter  tears ; 
But  deepeft  comfort  lies  in  them 

For  us,  whofe  fins  have  fill'd  our  fouls 
with  fears : 
Since  that  they  tell, 
When  fmners  turn  to  Thee  Thou  lov'ft  it  well, 
And  furely  wilt  efface,  of  Thy  unbounded  grace, 
All  the  mifdeeds  that  on  our  confcience  dwell. 

When  God's  juit  wrath  and  anger  burn 

Againfl  me  for  my  fin, 
To  thefe  fad  tears  of  Thine  I  turn, 

And  watching  them  frefh  hope  and  courage  win. 
For  God  doth  prize 
Thefe  drops  fo  greatly,  that  before  His  eyes 
Who  fprinkles  o'er  his  foul  with  them  is  clean  and 

whole, 
And  from  his  forrows'  depth  new  joy  fhall  rife. 

Earth  is  the  home  of  tears  and  woe, 

Where  we  mult  often  weep, 
Fighting  the  world  our  mighty  foe, 

Whofe  enmity  to  Thee  doth  never  fleep. 


£ma  (Sn*mamca.  7> 

My  heart  is  torn 
Afrefh  each  day  by  her  fierce  rage  and  fcorn, 
But  in  my  faddeft  hours,  I  think  upon  thofe  mowers 
That  tell  how  Thou  haft  all  our  forrows  borne. 

Thou  counteft  up  my  tears  and  fighs ; 

E'en  were  they  numberlefs. 
Not  one  is  hidden  from  Thine  eyes, 
Thou  ne'er  forgetteft  me  in  my  diftrefs, 
But  when  they  rain 
Before  Thee,  Thou  doll  quickly  turn  again, 
Haft  pity  on  my  woe,  and  makeft  me  to  know 
What  fweeteft  joy  lies  hid  in  foreft  pain. 

We  fow  in  tears;  but  let  us  keep 

Our  faith  in  God,  and  truft  Him  ftill, 
Yonder  our  harveft  we  mall  reap, 

Where  gladnefs  every  heart  and  mouth  fhall  fill. 
Such  joy  is  there 
No  mortal  tongue  its  glory  can  declare, 
A  joy  that  fhall  endure,  changelefs  and  deep  and  pure, 
That  fhall  be  ours,  if  here  the  crofs  we  bear. 

O  Chrift,  I  thank  Thee  for  Thy  tears; 

Thofe  tears  have  won  for  me 
That  I  fhall  wear,  through  endlefs  years, 
A  crown  of  joy  before  my  God  and  Thee. 
All  weeping  o'er, 
Up  to  Thy  chofen  faints  I  once  fhall  foar, 
And  there  Thy  pity  praife,  in  more  befitting  lays, 
Thou  Glory  of  Thy  Church,  for  evermore. 

Heermann.      1630. 


72  £pra  (5-ermamra. 


TUESDAY  IN  PASSION  WEEK. 

By  the  which  will  we  are  fandtified,  through  the  offer- 
ing of  the  body  of  Jefus  Chrift  once  for  all. — Heb.  x.  i  o. 

ORD !  Thy  death  and  paflion  give 
Strength  and  comfort  at  my  need, 
Every  hour  while  here  I  live 
On  Thy  love  my  foul  mall  feed. 
Doth  fome  evil  thought  upftart? 
Lo,  Thy  crofs  defends  my  heart, 
Shows  the  peril,  and  I  fhrink 
Back  from  loitering  on  the  brink. 

Doth  my  carnal  nature  yearn 

After  wanton  joys?  again 
Quickly  to  Thy  crofs  I  turn, 

And  her  voice  is  heard  in  vain. 
Cometh  ftrong  temptation's  hour, 
When  my  foe  puts  forth  his  power  ? 
Shelter'd  by  this  holy  fhield, 
Soon  I  drive  him  from  the  field. 

Would  the  world  my  Heps  entice 

To  yon  wide  and  level  road, 
Fill'd  with  mirth  and  pleafant  vice  ? 

Lord,  I  think  upon  the  load 


£gra  (famnanka.  73 

Thou  didil  once  for  me  endure, 
And  I  fly  all  thoughts  impure; 
Thinking  on  Thy  bitter  pains, 
Hufh'd  in  prayer  my  heart  remains. 

Yes,  Thy  crofs  hath  power  to  heal 
All  the  wounds  of  fin  and  ftrife, 
Loft  in  Thee  my  heart  doth  feel 

Sudden  warmth  and  nobler  life. 
In  my  faddeft,  darkeft  grief, 
Let  Thy  fweetnefs  bring  relief, 
Thou  who  cameft  but  to  fave, 
Thou  who  feareft  not  the  grave ! 

Lord,  in  Thee  I  place  my  truft, 

Thou  art  my  defence  and  tower ; 
Death  Thou  treadeft  in  the  dull, 

O'er  my  foul  he  hath  no  power. 
That  I  may  have  part  in  Thee 
Help  and  fave  and  comfort  me, 
Give  me  of  Thy  grace  and  might, 
^  Refurreclion,  life  and  light, 

Fount  of  Good,  within  me  dwell, 
For  the  peace  Thy  prefence  fheds, 

Keeps  us  fafe  in  conflict  fell, 

Charms  the  pain  from  dying  beds. 

Hide  me  fafe  within  Thine  arm, 

Where  no  foe  can  hurt  or  harm ; 

Whofo,  Lord,  in  Thee  doth  reft, 

He  hath  conquer'd,  he  is  bleft. 

Heermann.      1644. 

0  e  &  .■ 


74  £2m  ®rcmamca. 


WEDNESDAY  IN  PASSION  WEEK. 

Now  once  in  the  end  of  the  world  hath  He  appeared, 
to  put  away  fin  by  the  facrifice  of  Himfelf. — From 
the  Epistle. 

HEN  forrow  and  remorfe 
4.     Prey  at  my  heart,  to  Thee 
I  look,  who  on  the  holy  crofs 
^2)^^  Wall  ilain  for  me. 

Ah  Lord,  Thy  precious  blood  was  fpilt 
For  me,  O  moll  unworthy, 
To  take  away  my  guilt. 

Oh  wonder  pall  belief! 

Behold  the  Mailer  fpares 
His  fervants,  and  fore  pain  and  grief 

For  them  He  bears. 
God  floopeth  from  His  throne  on  high, 

For  me  His  guilty  creature, 

He  deigns  as  man  to  die. 

Though  countlefs  were  the  fins, 

That  weigh'd  me  to  the  dull, 
Chrift's  death  for  me  the  favour  wins 

Of  God  moll  jufl. 
His  precious  blood  my  debts  hath  paid, 

Of  hell  and  all  its  torments 

I  am  no  more  afraid. 


C^ttx  ©ormanica.  75 

My  heart  is  fill'd  with  ruth, 

Thinking  on  all  Thou'ft  borne, 
How  mighty  love  and  tender  truth 
Were  crown'd  with  thorn. 
In  fongs  of  thanks  I'll  fpend  my  breath 

For  Thy  fad  cry,  Thy  fufferings, 

Thy  wrongs,  Thy  guiltlefs  death. 

Thy  Paffion,  Lord,  infpires 

My  fpirit  day  by  day, 
With  ftrength  from  all  low  dark  defires 

To  flee  away. 
This  thought  I  fain  would  cherifh  mod, 

What  pain  my  foul's  redemption 

To  Thee,  O  Saviour,  coft. 

Whate'er  the  burden  be, 

The  crofs  upon  me  laid, 
Or  want  or  fhame,  I  look  to  Thee, 

Be  Thou  my  aid. 
Give  patience,  give  me  ftrength  to  take 

Thee  for  my  bright  example, 

And  all  the  world  forfake. 

Let  me  to  others  do, 

As  Thou  haft  done  to  me, 
Love  them  with  love  unfeign'd  and  true, 

Their  fervant  be 
Of  willing  heart,  nor  feek  my  own, 

But  as  Thou,  Lord,  haft  helped  us, 

From  pureft  love  alone. 


76  £gra  (Btvmanka. 

And  let  Thy  forrows  cheer 
My  foul  when  I  depart ; 
Give  ftrength  to  caft  away  all  fear, 

And  tell  my  heart 
That  fmce  my  truft  is  in  Thy  grace, 
Thou  wilt  accept  me  yonder, 
Where  I  mall  fee  Thy  face. 

Gesenius.     i  646. 


Cgrct  ©trmonka.  77 


THURSDAY  IN  PASSION  WEEK. 


Pilate  therefore,  willing  to  releafe  Jefus,  fpake  again 
to  them.  But  they  cried  faying,  Crucify  him,  crucify 
him.  And  he  faid  unto  them  the  third  time,  Why, 
what  evil  hath  he  done? — From  the  Gospel. 


LAS,  dear  Lord,  what  evil  haft  Thou  done, 
That  fuch  fharp  fentence  from  Thy  Judge 

hath  won  ? 
What  are  His  crimes,  and  what  the  guilt, 

oh  tell, 
Wherein  He  fell? 


They  fcourge  Him,  crown  Him  with  a  crown  of 

thorn, 
They  fmite  His  face,  with  bitter  mock  and  fcorn, 
They  give  Him  gall  to  drink,  they  pierce  His  fide, 
The  Crucified! 

Whence  come  thefe  forrows,  whence  this  cruel  woe  ? 
It  was  my  fms  that  ftruck  the  fatal  blow; 
Mine  were  the  wrath  and  anguifh,  deareft  Lord, 
On  Thee  outpour'd. 

What  ftrangeft  punifhment !  The  Shepherd  good 
For  erring  fheep  here  pours  His  own  heart's  blood, 
The  fervants*  debts  are  on  the  Mailer  laid, 
Who  all  hath  paid. 


78  Cgra  ©ermanuct. 

From  head  to  foot  was  there  no  fpot  in  me 
Unfcarr'd  by  fin,  from  taint  of  evil  free ; 
My  fins  had  weigh'd  me  down  that  I  mould  dwell, 
For  aye  in  Hell. 

Oh  wondrous  love,  love  that  no  meafure  knows, 
That  brought  Thee,  Chrift,  to  drink  this  cup  of  woes ! 
Full  of  the  world's  vain  joys  and  hopes  was  I, 
While  Thou  mull  die ! 

0  mighty  King!  mighty  beyond  all  time! 

Fain  would  I  found  Thy  praife  through  every  clime ! 
A  gift  were  meet  for  Thee,  my  anxious  thought 
Long  time  hath  fought. 

But  human  wifdom  fearches,  Lord,  in  vain 
To  find  aught  like  Thy  pity,  or  Thy  pain. 
How  fhall  my  works,  though  toiling  day  and  night, 
Thy  love  requite  ? 

Yet  have  I  somewhat  that  my  Lord  can  pleafe; 

1  can  renounce  fweet  fins  and  felfilh  eafe, 

And  quench  the  unhallow'd  fires  that  back  would 
lure 
To  thoughts  impure. 

But  fmce  my  ftrength,  alas,  will  ne'er  prevail 
My  flrong  defires  upon  the  crofs  to  nail, 
Oh  let  Thy  Spirit  rule  my  heart,  who  leads 
To  all  good  deeds. 

Then  fhall  Thy  mercy  fill  my  every  thought ; 
I  love  Thee  fo,  the  world  to  me  is  nought. 
My  fole  endeavour,  Lord,  is  to  fulfil 
Thy  holy  will. 


£tn*a  ®*rmamca.  79 

My  all  I  rifk  to  magnify  Thy  name, 
No  crofs  fhall  daunt  me,  no  reproach  or  Ihame ; 
Man's  fierceft  threats  I  will  not  lay  to  heart, 
Nor  Death's  worft  fmart. 

In  truth  my  facrifice  is  nothing  worth, 
Yet  Thou  in  mercy  wilt  not  caft  it  forth; 
Thou'lt  put  me  not  to  fhame,  but  for  love's  fake 
My  offering  take. 

Lord  Jefus,  once  on  high  amongft  Thine  own, 
Shall  I  Hand  crown'd  with  light  before  Thy  throne ; 
Where  fweeteft  hymns  are  ever  ringing  round 
My  voice  fhall  found. 

Heermann.      1630. 


8o  igra  (Bevmcmica. 

GOOD  FRIDAY. 

Morning. 

He  was  wounded  for  our  tranfgreffions,  He  was  bruifed 
for  our  iniquities :  the  chaftifement  of  our  peace  was 
upon  Him,  and  with  His  flripes  we  are  healed. — From 
the  Lesson. 

H  wounded  Head!     Muft  Thou 
Endure  fuch  fhame  and  fcorn ! 
The  blood  is  trickling  from  Thy  brow 
Pierced  by  the  crown  of  thorn. 
Thou  who  waft  crown'd  on  high 
With  light  and  majefty, 
In  deep  diihonour  here  muft  die, 
Yet  here  I  welcome  Thee! 

Thou  noble  countenance ! 

All  earthly  lights  are  pale 
Before  the  brightnefs  of  that  glance, 

At  which  a  world  fhall  quail. 

How  is  it  quench'd  and  gone ! 

Thofe  gracious  eyes  how  dim ! 
Whence  grew  that  cheek  fo  pale  and  wan? 

Who  dared  to  feoff  at  Him? 

All  lovely  hues  of  life, 
That  glow'd  on  lip  and  cheek, 
Have  vanifhed  in  that  awful  ftrife ; 
The  Mighty  One  is  weak. 


Cpra  ®ermamca.  81 

Pale  Death  has  won  the  day, 
He  triumphs  in  this  hour 
When  Strength  and  Beauty  fade  away, 
And  yield  them  to  his  power. 

Ah  Lord,  Thy  woes  belong, 

Thy  cruel  pains,  to  me, 
The  burden  of  my  fin  and  wrong 

Hath  all  been  laid  on  Thee. 

Look  on  me  where  I  kneel, 

Wrath  were  my  rightful  lot, 
One  glance  of  love  oh  let  me  feel ! 

Redeemer,  fpurn  me  not! 

My  Guardian,  own  me  Thine; 

Thy  lamb,  O  Shepherd,  lead ! 
What  richeft  bleffings,  Source  Divine, 

Daily  from  Thee  proceed  ! 

How  oft  Thy  mouth  has  fed 

My  foul  with  angels'  food, 
How  oft  Thy  Spirit  o'er  me  Ihed 

His  ftores  of  heavenly  good ! 

Ah  would  that  I  could  fhare 

Thy  crofs,  Thy  bitter  woes  ! 
All  true  delight  lies  hidden  there, 

Thence  all  true  comfort  flows. 

Ah  well  were  it  for  me 

Could  I  here  end  my  ftrife, 
And  die  upon  the  crofs  with  Thee, 

Who  art  my  Life  of  life ! 

F 


82  £m*ct  <fi>ermcmtca. 

O  Jefus,  deareft  Friend, 

My  foul  is  all  o'erfraught 
With  thanks,  when  pondering  to  what  end 

Thou  hail  the  battle  fought. 

Oh  let  me  faithful  keep, 

As  Thou  art  true  to  me, 
So  fhall  my  laft  cold  deathly  fleep 

Be  but  a  reft  in  Thee. 

Yes,  when  I  hence  muft  go, 
Go  not  Thou,  Chrift,  from  me; 

When  Death  has  ftruck  the  mortal  blow, 
Bear  Thou  mine  agony. 
When  heart  and  fpirit  fink, 
O'erwhelm'd  with  dark  difmay, 

Come  Thou  who  ne'er  from  pain  didft  fhrink, 
And  chafe  my  fears  away. 

Come  to  me  ere  I  die, 

My  comfort  and  my  fhield ; 
And  gazing  on  Thy  crofs  can  I 

Calmly  my  fpirit  yield. 

When  life  is  well-nigh  paft, 

My  darkening  eyes  fhall  dwell 
On  Thee,  my  heart  fhall  hold  Thee  faft; 

Who  dieth  thus,  dies  well. 

Paul  Gerhardt.      1659. 


£gra  ©armamca.  83 

GOOD  FRIDAY. 

Evening. 

But  God  commendeth  his  love  toward  us,  in  that, 
while  we  were  yet  miners,  Chrift  died  for  us. — Rom. 
5.8. 

HOU  Holieft  Love,  whom  moll  I  love, 
Who  art  my  long'd-for  only  blifs, 
Whom  tendereft  pity  erft  did  move 
To  fathom  woe  and  death's  abyfs ; 
Thou  who  didft  fuffer  for  my  good, 
And  die  my  guilty  debts  to  pay, 
Thou  Lamb  of  God,  whofe  precious  blood 
Can  take  a  world's  mifdeeds  away; 

Thou  who  didft  bear  the  agony 

That  made  e'en  Thy  ftrong  fpirit  quail, 
Yet  ever  yearneft  flill  for  me 

With  longing  love  that  ne'er  mall  fail; 
'Twas  Thou  waft  willing,  Thou  alone, 

To  bear  the  righteous  wrath  of  God; 
Thy  death  hath  ftill'd  it,  elfe  had  none 

Found  fhelter  from  its  awful  load. 

O  Love,  who  with  unflinching  heart 
Didft  bear  all  worft  difgrace  and  fhame; 

O  Love,  who  mid  the  keeneft  fmart 
Of  dying  pangs  wert  ftill  the  lame ; 


84  Cgra  (Btxmanita. 

Who  didft  Thy  changelefs  virtue  prove 
E'en  with  Thy  lateft  parting  breath, 

And  fpakeft  words  of  gentleft  love 
When  foul  and  body  fank  in  death; 

O  Love,  through  forrows  manifold 

Haft  Thou  betroth'd  me  as  a  bride, 
By  ceafelefs  gifts,  by  love  untold, 

Haft  bound  me  ever  to  Thy  fide. 
Oh  let  the  weary  ache,  the  fmart, 

Of  life's  long  tale  of  pain  and  lofs, 
Be  gently  ftill'd  within  my  heart 

At  thought  of  Thee,  and  of  Thy  crofs ! 

0  Love,  who  gav'ft  Thy  life  for  me, 
And  won  an  everlafting  good 

Through  Thy  fore  anguifh  on  the  tree, 
I  ever  think  upon  Thy  blood ; 

1  ever  thank  Thy  facred  wounds, 

Thou  wounded  Love,  Thou  Holieft, 
But  moft  when  life  is  near  its  bounds, 
And  in  Thy  bofom  fafe  I  reft. 

0  Love,  who  unto  death  haft  grieved 
For  this  cold  heart,  unworthy  Thine, 

Whom  the  cold  grave  and  death  received, 
I  thank  Thee  for  that  grief  divine. 

1  give  Thee  thanks  that  Thou  didft  die 

To  win  eternal  life  for  me, 
To  bring  falvation  from  on  high; 

Oh  draw  me  up  through  love  to  Thee ! 

Angelus.      1657. 


£$xa  ©ronamca.  85 


EASTER  EVEN. 

\nd  Jofeph  wrapped  the  body  in  a  clean  linen  cloth, 
and  laid  it  in  his  own  new  tomb,  which  he  had  hewn 
out  in  the  rock. — From  the  Gospel. 

EST  of  the  weary!     Thou 

Thyfelf  art  refting  now, 
Where  lowly  in  Thy  fepulchre  Thou 
Heft: 

From  out  her  deathly  ileep 

My  foul  doth  Hart,  to  weep 

So  fad  a  wonder,  that  Thou  Saviour  dieft! 

Thy  bitter  anguifh  o'er, 

To  this  dark  tomb  they  bore 
Thee,  Life  of  life — Thee,  Lord  of  all  creation ! 

The  hollow  rocky  cave 

Muft  ferve  Thee  for  a  grave, 
Who  waft  Thyfelf  the  Rock  of  our  Salvation ! 

O  Prince  of  Life  !  I  know 

That  when  I  too  lie  low, 
Thou  wilt  at  laft  my  foul  from  death  awaken; 

Wherefore  I  will  not  fhrink 

From  the  grave's  awful  brink; 
The  heart  that  trufts  in  Thee  fhall  ne'er  be  fhaken. 


86  £gra  ©mnanka. 

To  me  the  darkfome  tomb 

Is  but  a  narrow  room, 
Where  I  may  reft  in  peace  from  forrow  free. 

Thy  death  fhall  give  me  power 

To  cry  in  that  dark  hour, 
O  Death,  O  Grave,  where  is  your  victory? 

The  grave  can  nought  deftroy, 

Only  the  flefh  can  die, 
And  e'en  the  body  triumphs  o'er  decay : 

Cloth'd  by  Thy  wondrous  might 

In  robes  of  dazzling  light, 
This  flefh  fhall  burft  the  grave  at  that  laft  Day. 

My  Jefus,  day  by  day, 

Help  me  to  watch  and  pray, 
Befide  the  tomb  where  in  my  heart  Thou'rt  laid. 

Thy  bitter  death  fhall  be 

My  conftant  memory, 
My  guide  at  laft  into  Death's  awful  fhade. 

S.  Franck.     i  7  i  i  , 


figta  ©ermantca.  87 


EASTER  DAY. 

Morning. 

Christ  being  raifed  from  the  dead  dieth  no  more: 
death  hath  no  more  dominion  over  him. — From  the 
Anthem. 

N  the  bonds  of  Death  He  lay, 
Who  for  our  offence  was  flain, 
But  the  Lord  is  rifen  to-day, 
Chrifl  hath  brought  us  life  again. 
Wherefore  let  us  all  rejoice, 
Singing  loud  with  cheerful  voice 

Hallelujah ! 

Of  the  fons  of  men  was  none 

Who  could  break  the  bonds  of  Death, 
Sin  this  mifchief  dire  had  done, 
Innocent  was  none  on  earth, 
Wherefore  Death  grew  flrong  and  bold, 
Would  all  men  in  his  prifon  hold, 
Hallelujah ! 

Jefus  Chrifl,  God's  only  Son, 

Came  at  laft  our  foe  to  fmite, 
All  our  fins  away  hath  done, 

Done  away  Death's  power  and  right, 
Only  the  form  of  Death  is  left, 
Of  his  fling  he  is  bereft; 

Hallelujah. 


88  Cgra  <5mwnka. 

That  was  a  wondrous  war  I  trow, 

When  Life  and  Death  together  fought, 
But  Life  hath  triumph'd  o'er  his  foe, 
Death  is  mock'd  and  fet  at  nought ; 
'Tis  even  as  the  Scripture  faith, 
Chrift  through  death  has  conquer'd  Death. 
Hallelujah. 

The  rightful  Pafchal  Lamb  is  He, 

On  whom  alone  we  all  mufl  live, 
Who  to  death  upon  the  tree, 

Himfelf  in  wondrous  love  did  give. 
Faith  ftrikes  his  blood  upon  the  door, 
Death  fees,  and  dares  not  harm  us  more. 
Hallelujah. 

Let  us  keep  high  feftival, 

On  this  moft  blefled  day  of  days, 
When  God  His  mercy  fhow'd  to  all! 

Our  Sun  is  rifen  with  brighteft  rays,       / 
And  our  dark  hearts  rejoice  to  fee 
Sin  and  night  before  him  flee. 

Hallelujah. 

To  the  fupper  of  the  Lord, 

Gladly  will  we  come  to-day, 
The  word  of  peace  is  now  reftored, 
The  old  leaven  is  put  away. 
Chrift  will  be  our  food  alone, 
Rith  no  life  but  His  doth  own. 
Hallelujah. 

Luther.     1524. 


Cgra  <£>n*mamca.  89 


EASTER  DAY. 
Evening. 

If  ye  then  be  rifen  with  Chrift,  feek  thofe  things  which 
are  above,  where  Chrift  fitteth  on  the  right  hand  of 
God. — From  the  Epistle. 

GLORIOUS  Head,  Thou  liveft  now! 
Let  us  Thy  members  fhare  Thy  life; 
Canft  Thou  behold  their  need,  nor  bow 
To  raife  Thy  children  from  the  ftrife 
With  felf  and  fin,  with  death  and  dark  diftrefs, 
That  they  may  live  to  Thee  in  holinefs? 

Earth  knows  Thee  not,  but  evermore 

Thou  liveft  in  Paradife,  in  peace; 
Thither  my  foul  would  alfo  foar, 

Let  me  from  all  the  creatures  ceafe : 
Dead  to  the  world,  but  to  Thy  Spirit  known, 
I  live  to  Thee,  O  Prince  of  life,  alone. 

Break  through  my  bonds  whate'er  it  coft, 

What  is  not  Thine  within  me  flay, 
Give  me  the  lot  I  covet  moft, 

To  rife  as  Thou  haft  rifen  to-day. 
Nought  can  I  do,  a  flave  to  death  I  pine, 
Work  Thou  in  me,  O  Power  and  Life  Divine ! 


9°  fLyxa  ®*nnattka. 

Work  Thou  in  me,  and  heavenward  guide 
My  thoughts  and  wifhes,  that  my  heart 

Waver  no  more  nor  turn  afide, 
But  fix  for  ever  where  Thou  art. 

Thou  art  not  far  from  us;  who  love  Thee  well, 

While  yet  on  earth  in  heaven  with  Thee  may  dwell. 

Tersteegen.     i  73  i. 


fLgxa  ©rnncmica.  91 


i 


MONDAY  IN  EASTER  WEEK. 

And  they  told  what  things  were  done  in  the  way,  and 
how  He  was  known  to  them  in  breaking  of  bread. 
And  as  they  thus  fpake,  Jefus  Himfelf  flood  in  the 
midit  of  them,  and  faith  unto  them,  Peace  be  unto 
you. — From  the  Gospel. 

ELCOME  Thou  vi&or  in  the  ftrife, 
«x     Welcome  from  out  the  cave  ! 
To-day  we  triumph  in  Thy  life 
£3)^$  Around  Thine  empty  grave. 

Our  enemy  is  put  to  fhame, 

His  fhort-lived  triumph  o'er; 
Our  God  is  with  us,  we  exclaim, 

We  fear  our  foe  no  more. 

The  dwellings  of  the  juft  refound 

With  fongs  of  vi&ory ; 
For  in  their  midft  Thou,  Lord,  art  found, 

And  bringeft  peace  with  Thee. 

O  fhare  with  us  the  fpoils,  we  pray, 

Thou  diedft  to  achieve  ; 
We  meet  within  Thy  houfe  to-day 

Our  portion  to  receive  : 


92  £j)ra  ©crmanfra. 

And  let  Thy  conquering  banner  wave 

O'er  hearts  Thou  makeft  free, 
And  point  the  path  that  from  the  grave 

Leads  heavenwards  up  to  Thee. 

We  bury  all  our  fin  and  crime 

Deep  in  our  Saviour's  tomb, 
And  feek  the  treafure  there,  that  time 

Nor  change  can  e'er  confume. 

We  die  with  Thee ;  oh  let  us  live 

Henceforth  to  Thee  aright; 
The  blefTings  Thou  haft  died  to  give, 

Be  daily  in  our  fight. 

Fearlefs  we  lay  us  in  the  tomb, 

And  fleep  the  night  away, 
If  Thou  art  there  to  break  the  gloom, 

And  call  us  back  to  day. 

Death  hurts  us  not;  his  power  is  gone, 

And  pointlefs  all  his  darts; 
God's  favour  now  on  us  hath  fhone, 

Joy  filleth  all  our  hearts. 

SCHMOLCK.       I7I2# 


iCgra  (5txmanka.  93 


TUESDAY  IN  EASTER  WEEK. 

I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth  .  .  and  though  after 
my  fkin  worms  deftroy  this  body,  yet  in  my  flefh  fhall 
I  fee  God. — Job  xix.  25,  26. 

For  this  corruptible  mult  put  on  incorruption,  and 
this  mortal  mull  put  on  immortality. — From  the  Les- 


ESUS  my  Redeemer  lives, 

Chrift  my  truft  is  dead  no  more; 
In  the  flrength  this  knowledge  gives 
Shall  not  all  my  fears  be  o'er; 
Calm,  though  death's  long  night  be  fraught 
Still  with  many  an  anxious  thought  ? 

Jefus  my  Redeemer  lives, 

And  His  life  I  once  fhall  fee ; 
Bright  the  hope  this  promife  gives, 

Where  He  is  I  too  fhall  be. 
Shall  I  fear  then?  Can  the  Head 
Rife  and  leave  the  members  dead? 

Clofe  to  Him  my  foul  is  bound 
In  the  bonds  of  Hope  enclafp'd; 

Faith's  ftrong  hand  this  hold  hath  found, 
And  the  Rock  hath  firmly  grafp'd. 


94  £pra  ©ermamca. 

Death  fhall  ne'er  my  foul  remove 
From  her  refuge  in  Thy  love. 

I  fhall  fee  Him  with  thefe  eyes, 
Him  whom  I  fhall  furely  know; 

Not  another  fhall  I  rife, 

With  His  love  this  heart  fhall  glow ; 

Only  there  fhall  difappear 

Weaknefs  in  and  round  me  here. 

Ye  who  fuffer,  figh,  and  moan, 

Frefh  and  glorious  there  fhall  reign ; 

Earthly  here  the  feed  is  fown, 
Heavenly  it  fhall  rife  again; 

Natural  here  the  death  we  die, 

Spiritual  our  life  on  high. 

Body,  be  thou  of  good  cheer, 
In  thy  Saviour's  care  rejoice, 

Give  not  place  to  gloom  and  fear, 
Dead,  thou  yet  fhalt  know  His  voice, 

When  the  final  trump  is  heard, 

And  the  deaf  cold  grave  is  flirr'd. 

Laugh  to  fcorn  then  death  and  hell, 
Laugh  to  fcorn  the  gloomy  grave; 

Caught  into  the  air  to  dwell 

With  the  Lord  who  comes  to  fave, 

We  fhall  trample  on  our  foes, 

Mortal  weaknefs,  fear  and  woes. 


£jn*a  (Bmnamca.  95 

Only  fee  ye  that  your  heart, 

Rife  betimes  from  earthly  luft, 
Would  ye  there  with  Him  have  part, 

Here  obey  your  Lord  and  truft. 
Fix  your  hearts  beyond  the  Ikies, 
Whither  ye  yourfelves  would  rife. 
Louisa  Henrietta, 

Eledlrefs  of  Brandenburg.      1653. 


96  ii^xa  feermcmica. 


FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER. 


God  hath  given  to  us  eternal  life,  and  this  life  is  in 
His  Son. — From  the  Epistle. 


HAT  had  I  been  if  Thou  wert  not? 
<*     What  were  I  now  if  Thou  wert  gone? 
Anguifh  and  fear  were  then  my  lot, 
In  this  wide  world  I  flood  alone; 
Whate'er  I  loved  were  fafe  no  more, 

The  future  were  a  dark  abyfs, 
To  whom  could  I  my  forrows  pour, 
If  Thee  my  laden  heart  mould  mifs  ? 

But  when  Thou  mak'fl  Thy  prefence  felt, 

And  when  the  foul  hath  grafp'd  Thee  right 
How  fall  the  dreary  fhadows  melt 

Beneath  Thy  warm  and  living  light: 
In  Thee  I  find  a  nobler  birth, 

A  glory  o'er  the  world  I  fee, 
And  Paradife  returns  to  earth, 

And  blooms  again  for  us  in  Thee. 

Thou  flrong  and  loving  Son  of  Man, 

Redeemer  from  the  bonds  of  fin, 
'Tis  Thou  the  living  fpark  dofl  fan 

That  fets  my  heart  on  fire  within. 


£$va  ©armctmcct.  97 

Thou  openeft  heaven  once  more  to  men, 
The  foul's  true  home,  Thy  kingdom,  Lord, 

And  I  can  truft  and  hope  again, 
And  feel  myfelf  akin  to  God. 

Brethren,  go  forth  befide  all  ways, 

The  wanderer  greet  with  outftretch'd  hand, 
And  call  him  back  who  darkly  ftrays, 

And  bid  him  join  our  gladfome  band. 
That  Heaven  hath  ftoop'd  to  earth  below, 

Proclaim  the  glad  news  everywhere, 
That  all  may  learn  our  faith  and  know 

They  too  may  find  an  entrance  there. 

Novalis.     About  1795. 


98  Curct  (Bermamcct. 


SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER. 

Jesus  faid,  I  am  the  Good  Shepherd:  the  Good  Shep- 
herd giveth  His  life  for  His  fheep. — From  the  Gos- 
pel. 

OVING  Shepherd,  kind  and  true, 
Wilt  Thou  not  in  pity  come 
To  Thy  lamb?  As  fhepherds  do, 
Bear  me  in  Thy  bofom  home ; 
Take  me  hence  from  earth's  annoy 
To  Thy  home  of  endlefs  joy. 

See  how  I  have  gone  aflray 

In  this  earthly  wildernefs; 
Come  and  take  me  hence  away 

To  Thy  flock  who  dwell  in  blifs, 
And  Thy  glory,  Lord,  behold, 
Safe  within  Thy  heavenly  fold. 

For  I  fain  would  gaze  on  Thee, 
With  the  lambs  to  whom  'tis  given 

That  they  feed  from  danger  free, 
In  the  happy  fields  of  heaven; 

Praifing  Thee,  all  terrors  o'er, 

Never  can  they  wander  more. 

Here  I  live  in  fore  diftrefs, 
Careful,  timid,  every  hour; 


ilma  <8>exmanka.  99 

For  my  foes  around  me  prefs, 

Hem  me  in  with  craft  and  power : 
Not  one  moment  fafe  can  be, 
Lord,  Thy  lamb  away  from  Thee. 

O  Lord  Jefus,  let  me  not 

'Mid  the  ravening  wolves  e'er  fall, 

Help  me  as  a  lhepherd  ought, 
That  I  may  efcape  them  all ; 

Bear  me  homeward  in  Thy  breaft, 

To  Thy  fold  of  endlefs  reft. 

Angelus.      1657. 


ioo  £gra  (femcmka. 


a§fe 

THIRD  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER. 

And  ye  now  therefore  have  forrow ;  but  I  will  fee  you 
again,  and  your  heart  fhall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no 
man  taketh  from  you. — From  the  Gospel. 

OMETH  funfhine  after  rain, 
After  mourning  joy  again, 
After  heavy  bitter  grief 
Dawneth  furely  fweet  relief; 
And  my  foul,  who  from  her  height 
Sank  to  realms  of  woe  and  night, 
Wingeth  now  to  heaven  her  flight. 

He,  whom  this  world  dares  not  face, 

Hath  refrefh'd  me  with  His  grace, 

And  His  mighty  hand  unbound 

Chains  of  hell  about  me  wound ; 

Quicker,  ftronger,  leaps  my  blood, 
Since  His  mercy,  like  a  flood, 
Pour'd  o'er  all  my  heart  for  good. 

Bitter  anguiih  have  I  borne, 

Keen  regret  my  heart  hath  torn, 

Sorrow  dimm'd  my  weeping  eyes, 

Satan  blinded  me  with  lies ; 
Yet  at  laft  am  I  fet  free, 
Help,  protection,  love,  to  me 
Once  more  true  companions  be. 


OV(f 


Cjiva  ©mnanica.  I°I 

Ne'er  was  left  a  helplefs  prey, 

Ne'er  with  fhame  was  turn'd  away, 

He  who  gave  himfelf  to  God, 

And  on  Him  had  caft  his  load. 

Who  in  God  his  hope  hath  placed 
Shall  not  life  in  pain  outwafte, 
Fulleft  joy  he  yet  fhall  tafte. 

Though  to-day  may  not  fulfil 

All  thy  hopes,  have  patience  ftill; 

For  perchance  to-morrow's  fun 

Sees  thy  happier  days  begun. 

As  God  willeth  march  the  hours, 
Bringing  joy  at  laft  in  fhowers, 
And  whate'er  we  afk'd  is  ours. 

When  my  heart  was  vex'd  with  care, 

Fill'd  with  fears  well  nigh  defpair; 

When  with  watching  many  a  night, 

On  me  fell  pale  ficknefs'  blight; 

When  my  courage  fail'd  me  fall, 
GameftT^hou,  my  God,  at  laft, 
And  my  woes  were  quickly  paft. 

Now  as  long  as  here  I  roam, 
On  this  earth  have  houfe  and  home, 
Shall  this  wondrous  gleam  from  Thee 
Shine  through  all  my  memory. 
To  my  God  I  yet  will  cling, 
All  my  life  the  praifes  ling 
That  from  thankful  hearts  outfpring. 


/ 


4 


102  Cgrct  ©armanica. 

Every  forrow,  every  fmart, 
That  the  Eternal  Father's  heart 
Hath  appointed  me  -of  yore, 
Or  hath  yet  for  me  in  ftore, 

As  my  life  flows  on  I'll  take 
Calmly,  gladly  for  His  fake,  t 
No  more  faithlefs  murmurs  make. 

I  will  meet  diftrefs  and  pain, 
I  will  greet  e'en  death's  dark  reign, 
I  will  lay  me  in  the  grave, 
With  a  heart  Hill  glad  and  brave. 


sLgrz^     *-Whom  the  Strongeft  doth  defend, 
rT'gheft  oounts  His  fri 
in  the  end. 
Paul  Ger.har.dt.      1659. 


Whom  the  Higheft  oounts  His  friend, 
Cannot  perifh  in  the  end. 


£jjra  (Smuanica.  103 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER. 

It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away,  for  if  I  go  not 
away,  the  Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you. — From 
the  Gospel. 

f^     HOLY  Ghoft!  Thou  fire  Divine ! 

From  higheft  heaven  on  us  down  fhine; 
Comforter,  be  Thy  comfort  mine! 

Come,  Father  of  the  poor,  to  earth ; 
Come  with  Thy  gifts  of  precious  worth ; 
Come,  Light  of  all  of  mortal  birth ! 

Thou  rich  in  comfort !  Ever  bleft 

The  heart  where  Thou  art  conftant  gueft, 

Who  giv'fl  the  heavy-laden  reft. 

Come,  Thou  in  whom  our  toil  is  fweet, 
Our  fhadow  in  the  noon-day  heat, 
Before  whom  mourning  flieth  fleet. 

Bright  Sun  of  Grace!  Thy  fiinfhine  dart 
On  all  who  cry  to  Thee  apart, 
And  fill  with  gladnefs  every  heart. 

Whate'er  without  Thy  aid  is  wrought, 
Or  fkilful  deed,  or  wifeft  thought, 
(jod  counts  it  vain  and  merely  nought, 


I04  £$ra  (Btxmanka. 

O  cleanfe  us  that  we  fin  no  more, 
O'er  parched  fouls  Thy  waters  pour; 
Heal  the  fad  heart  that  acheth  fore. 

Thy  will  be  ours  in  all  our  ways; 
Oh  melt  the  frozen  with  Thy  rays; 
Call  home  the  loft  in  error's  maze. 

And  grant  us,  Lord,  who  cry  to  Thee, 
And  hold  the  faith  in  unity, 
Thy  precious  gifts  of  charity; 

That  we  may  live  in  holinefs, 
And  find  in  death  our  happinefs, 
And  dwell  with  Thee  in  lafting  blifs ! 

King  Robert  of  France, 
about  a.  d.  iooo. 


£ma  ©ermtmica.  io5 


FIFTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER. 

These  things  have  I  fpoken  unto  you,  that  in  me  ye 
might  have  peace.  In  the  world  ye  mail  have  tribu- 
lation ;  but  be  of  good  cheer,  I  have  overcome  the 
world. — From  the  Gospel. 

HRIST,  Thou  the  champion  of  the  band 
who  own 
Thy  crofs,  oh  make  Thy  fuccour  quickly 
known ; 

The  fchemes  of  thofe  who  long  our  blood  have  fought 
Bring  Thou  to  nought. 

Do  Thou  Thyfelf  for  us  Thy  children  fight, 
Withftand  the  devil,  quell  his  rage  and  might, 
Whate'er  aflails  Thy  members  left  below 
Do  Thou  o'erthrow. 

And  give  us  peace;  peace  in  the  church  and  fchool, 
Peace  to  the  powers  who  o'er  our  country  rule, 
Peace  to  the  confcience,  peace  within  the  heart, 
Do  Thou  impart. 

So  fhall  Thy  goodnefs  here  be  ftill  adored, 
Thou  guardian  of  Thy  little  flock,  dear  Lord, 
And  heaven  and  earth  through  all  eternity 
Shall  worfhip  Thee. 

Lowenstern. 
During  the  Thirty  Years'  War. 
6* 


[o6  £pra  tomantca. 


ASCENSION  DAY. 

This  fame  Jefus  which  is  taken  up  from  you  into 
heaven,  fhall  fo  come,  in  like  manner  as  ye  have  feen 
him  go  into  heaven. — For  the  Epistle. 

ORD,  on  earth  I  dwell  in  pain; 
Here  in  anguifh  I  muft  lie ; 
Wherefore  leav'ft  Thou  me  again, 
Why  ascendeft  Thou  on  high? 
Take  me,  take  me  hence  with  Thee, 
Or  abide,  Lord,  {till  in  me; 
Let  Thy  love  and  gifts  be  left, 
That  I  be  not  all  bereft. 

Leave  Thy  heart  with  me  behind, 
Take  mine  hence  with  Thee  away; 

Let  my  fighs  an  entrance  find 
To  Thy  heaven  whene'er  I  pray. 

When  I  cannot  pray,  oh  plead 

With  Thy  Father  in  my  ftead; 

Thou  who  fitt'ft  at  God's  right  hand, 

Help  us  here  Thy  faithful  band. 

Help  me  earthly  toys  to  fpurn, 

Raife  my  thoughts  from  things  below; 

Mortal  am  I  here,  yet  yearn 

Heavenly  like  my  Lord  to  grow, 


£t)va  ©ermamca.  I07 

That  my  time  through  faith  may  be 
Order'd  for  eternity; 
Till  we  rife,  all  perils  o'er, 
Whither  Thou  haft  gone  before. 

In  due  feason  come  again, 

As  was  promifed  us  of  old; 
Raife  the  members  that  have  lain 

Gnaw'd  of  death  beneath  the  mould. 
Judge  the  evil  world  that  deems 
Thy  fure  words  but  empty  dreams ; 
Then  for  all  our  forrows  paft, 
Let  us  know  Thy  joy  at  laft. 

Neumann,      i  700. 


lo8  £m*a  <&mnanka. 


SUNDAY  AFTER  ASCENSION  DAY. 

These  all  confefled  that  they  were  ftrangers  and  pil- 
grims on  the  earth.  .  .  For  they  defired  a  better  coun- 
try, that  is,  an  heavenly;  wherefore  God  is  not 
afhamed  to  be  called  their  God :  for  He  hath  prepared 
for  them  a  city. — Heb.  xi.  13,  16. 

EAVENWARD  doth  our  journey  tend, 
We  are  ftrangers  here  on  earth, 
Through  the  wildernefs  we  wend 
Towards  the  Canaan  of  our  birth. 
Here  we  roam  a  pilgrim  band, 
Yonder  is  our  native  land. 

Heavenward  ftretch,  my  foul,  thy  wings, 
Heavenly  nature  canft  thou  claim, 

There  is  nought  of  earthly  things 
Worthy  to  be  all  thine  aim; 

Every  foul  whom  God  infpires, 

Back  to  Him  its  Source  afpires. 

Heavenward!  doth  His  Spirit  cry, 
When  I  hear  Him  in  His  Word, 

Showing  thus  the  reft  on  high, 
Where  I  fhall  be  with  my  Lord : 

When  His  Word  fills  all  my  thought, 

Oft  to  heaven  my  foul  is  caught. 


Cgra  ©ermantca.  109 

Heavenward  ever  would  I  hafte, 
When  Thy  Table,  Lord,  is  fpread; 

Heavenly  ftrength  on  earth  I  tafte, 
Feeding  on  the  Living  Bread. 

Such  is  e'en  on  earth  our  fare 

Who  Thy  marriage  feaft  fhall  ihare. 

Heavenwards !  Faith  difcerns  the  prize 

That  is  waiting  us  afar, 
And  my  heart  would  fwiftly  rife, 

High  o'er  fun  and  moon  and  liar, 
To  that  Light  behind  the  veil 
Where  all  earthly  fplendours  pale. 

Heavenward  Death  fhall  lead  at  laft, 

To  the  home  where  I  would  be, 
All  my  forrows  overpaft, 

I  fhall  triumph  there  with  Thee, 
Jefus,  who  haft  gone  before, 
That  we  too  might  Heavenwards  foar. 

Heavenwards!  Heavenwards!  Only  this 

Is  my  watchword  on  the  earth; 
For  the  love  of  heavenly  blifs 

Counting  all  things  little  worth. 
Heavenward  all  my  being  tends, 
Till  in  Heaven  my  journey  ends. 

Schmolck.      1 73 1. 


fL$xa  ©jermanica. 


WHIT-SUNDAY. 

I  will  pray  the  Father,  and  He  fhall  give  you  another 
Comforter,  that  He  may  abide  with  you  for  ever, 
even  the  Spirit  of  Truth. — From  the  Gospel. 

OME,  deck  our  feaft  to-day 

With  flowers  and  wreaths  of  May, 
And  bring  an  offering  pure  and  fweet; 
The  Spirit  of  all  grace 
Makes  earth  His  dwelling-place, 
Prepare  your  hearts  your  Lord  to  meet ; 
Receive  Him,  and  He  fhall  outpour 
Such  light,  all  hearts  with  joy  run  o'er, 
And  found  of  tears  is  heard  no  more. 

Thou  harbinger  of  peace, 

Who  maketh  forrows  ceafe, 
Wifdom  in  word  and  deed  is  Thine ; 

Strong  hand  of  God,  Thy  feal 

The  loved  of  Jefus  feel ; 
Pure  Light,  o'er  all  our  pathway  mine ! 

Give  vigorous  life  and  healthy  powers, 

Oh  let  Thy  fevenfold  gifts  be  ours, 

Refrefh  us  with  Thy  gracious  fhowers! 

Oh  touch  our  tongues  with  flame, 
When  fpeaking  Jefu's  name! 


&qxgl  ©armamca.  " 

And  lead  us  up  the  heavenward  road. 
Give  us  the  power  to  pray, 
Teach  us  what  words  to  fay, 

Whene'er  we  come  before  our  God. 
O  Higheft  Good,  our  fpirits  cheer, 
When  raging  foes  are  flrong  and  near, 
Give  us  brave  hearts  undimm'd  by  fear. 

O  golden  rain  from  heaven! 

Thy  precious  dews  be  given 
Unto  the  churches'  barren  field! 

And  let  Thy  waters  flow, 

Where'er  the  fowers  fow 
The  feed  of  truth,  that  it  may  yield 

A  hundred-fold  its  living  fruit, 

O'er  all  the  land  may  take  deep  root, 

And  mighty  branches  heavenward  fhoot. 

Thou  fiery  glow  of  Love  ! 

Let  us  Thy  ardours -prove, 
Confume  our  hearts  with  quenchlefs  fire ! 

Come,  O  Thou  tracklefs  Wind! 

Breathe  gently  o'er  our  mind ! 
Let  not  the  flefh  to  rule  afpire ; 

Help  us  our  free-born  right  to  take, 

The  heavy  yoke  of  fin  to  break, 

And  all  her  tempting  paths  forfake. 

Be  it  Thine  to  ftir  our  will ; 
Our  good  intents  fulfil ; 
Be  with  us  when  we  go  and  come ; 
Deep  in  our  fpirits  dwell, 
And  make  their  inmoft  cell 


112 


£gra  ©mnantca. 


Thy  temple  pure,  Thy  holy  home ! 
Teach  us  to  know  our  Lord,  that  we 
May  call  His  Father  ours  through  Thee, 
Thou  pledge  of  glories  yet  to  be ! 

O  make  our  crofses  fweet, 

And  let  Thy  funfhine  greet 
Our  {training  eyes  in  clouded  hours ! 

Wing  Thou  our  upward  flight 

Toward  yonder  mountain  bright, 
Girded  about  with  Zion's  golden  towers ! 

Forfake  us  not  when  our  laft  foe 

Puts  forth  his  ftrength  to  lay  us  low, 

Then,  then  our  victory  bellow ! 

Let  us,  while  here  we  dwell, 

This  one  thought  ponder  well, 
That  in  God's  likenefs  we  are  made. 

As  o'er  a  fruitful  land 

Rich  harvefts  waving  Hand, 
We,  ferving  Him,  bear  fruits  that  never  fade, 

Till  Thou  in  whom  all  comfort  lies, 

Lift  us  to  fields  above  the  Ikies, 

And  bid  us  bloom  in  Paradife ! 

Schmolck.      1715. 


£gva  ©ermanica.  I!3 


MONDAY  IN  WHITSUN-WEEK. 

Would  God  that  all  the  Lord's  people  were  prophets, 
and  that  the  Lord  would  put  His  Spirit  upon  them ! 
— From  the  Lesson. 

OME  to  Thy  temple  here  on  earth, 
Be  Thou  my  fpirit's  gueft, 
Who  giveft  us  of  mortal  birth 
A  fecond  birth  more  bleft; 
Spirit  beloved,  Thou  mighty  Lord, 
Who  with  the  Father  and  the  Son 
Reigneit.  upon  an  equal  throne, 
Art  equally  adored ! 

Oh  enter,  let  me  feel  and  know 

Thy  mighty  power  within, 
That  can  alone  our  help  bellow, 

And  refcue  us  from  fin. 
Oh  cleanfe  my  foul  and  make  it  white, 

That  I  with  heart  unftain'd  and  true, 

May  daily  render  fervice  due, 
And  honour  Thee  aright. 

I  was  a  wild  unfruitful  vine 

Which  Thou  muft  prune  and  train ; 

Death  pierced  through  all  this  life  of  mine, 
But  Thou  my  foe  hath  flain. 


"4  igm  (Btxmanua. 

Thy  holy  baptifm  is  his  grave, 
He  perimes  beneath  the  flood 
Of  His  moil:  precious  death  and  blood, 

Who  died  our  life  to  fave. 

Thou  art  the  Spirit  who  doft  teach 

To  pray  aright,  for  all 
Our  prayers  are  heard  if  Thou  befeech, 

Thy  fongs  have  fweeteft  fall. 
They  foar  on  tirelefs  wings  to  heaven, 

They  fail  not  from  before  God's  throne, 

Till  all  His  goodnefs  we  have  known 
By  whom  all  help  is  given. 

Thou  art  the  Spirit  of  all  joy, 

Sadnefs  Thou  loveft  not; 
Thy  comfort  beaming  from  on  high, 

Lights  up  the  darkeft  lot, 
Ah  yes,  how  many  a  time  of  old 

Thy  voice  hath  wrapt  my  foul  away, 

To  yon  bright  halls  of  endlefs  day, 
And  oped  the  gates  of  gold ! 

Thou  art  the  Spirit  of  all  love, 

Thou  loveft  kindly  life, 
Wouldft  not  that  wrath  our  hearts  fhould  move, 

Nor  envy,  anger,  ftrife. 
Thou  hateft  hatred's  withering  reign, 

In  hearts  that  difcord  maketh  dark 

Doft  Thou  rekindle  love's  bright  fpark, 
And  make  them  one  again. 


Cgra  ©n*mamca.  115 

On  Thee  is  all  this  world  upftaid, 

And  in  Thy  hands  doth  reft; 
Thou  canfl  the  wayward  heart  perfuade 

To  turn  as  feems  Thee  beft : 
Oh  therefore  give  Thy  love  and  peace, 

That  they  may  join  in  ftrongeft  bands 

Long  parted  foes,  and  through  our  lands 
Thefe  fad  divifions  ceafe. 

A  rife,  and  ftem  this  tide  of  woe, 

Of  heartache,  and  of  pain ; 
Call  back  Thy  flock,  and  make  them  know 

Bright  days  of  joy  again; 
To  peace  and  wealth  the  lands  reflore, 

Wafted  with  fire  or  plague  or  fword; 

Come  to  Thy  ruin'd  churches,  Lord, 
And  bid  them  bloom  once  more ! 

The  rulers  of  our  land  defend, 

Our  Sovereign's  throne  uphold; 
That  he  and  we  may  profper,  fend 

True  wifdom  to  the  old ; 
With  piety  the  young  men  blefs, 

And  through  the  nation  fhed  abroad 

True  virtue  and  the  fear  of  God, 
A  nation's  happinefs. 

Fill  every  heart  with  holy  zeal 

To  keep  the  faith  unftain'd; 
Let  houfe  and  land  Thy  bleffing  feel, 

Whence  all  true  wealth  is  gain'd. 


116  £ma  (Brvmanica. 

Him  who  refills  Thy  inward  powers, 
The  Evil  Spirit  make  Thou  flee; 
Whate'er  delights  Thy  heart,  would  he 

Fain  root  from  out  of  ours. 


Give  ftrong  and  cheerful  hearts  to  ftand 

Undaunted  in  the  wars, 
That  Satan's  works  and  mighty  band 

Are  waging  with  Thy  caufe. 
Help  us  to  fight  as  warriors  brave, 

That  we  may  conquer  in  the  field, 

And  not  one  Chriftian  man  may  yield 
His  foul  to  fin  a  flave. 

Order  according  to  Thy  mind 

Our  life  from  day  to  day, 
And  when  this  life  muft  be  refign'd, 

And  Death  has  feized  his  prey, 
When  all  our  days  have  fleeted  by, 

Help  us  to  die  with  fearlefs  fpirit, 

And  let  us  after  death  inherit 
Eternal  life  on  high. 

Paul  Gerhardt. 
During  the  Thirty  Years'  War. 


Cgrci  (Btxmamca.  "7 


TUESDAY  IN  WHITSUN-WEEK. 

Hereby  know  ye  the  Spirit  of  God.  Every  fpirit  that 
confefTeth  that  Jefus  Chrift  is  come  in  the  flefh  is  of 
God. — From  the  Lesson. 

OME,  Holy  Spirit,  God  and  Lord, 
Be  all  Thy  graces  now  outpour'd 
On  the  believer's  mind  and  foul, 
And  touch  their  hearts  with  living  coal. 
Thy  Light  this  day  fhone  forth  fo  clear, 
All  tongues  and  nations  gither'd  near, 
To  learn  that  faith,  for  which  we  bring 
Glad  praife  to  Thee,  and  loudly  fing, 

Hallelujah,  Hallelujah! 

Thou  Strong  Defence,  Thou  Holy  Light, 
Teach  us  to  know  our  God  aright, 
And  call  Him  Father  from  the  heart : 
The  Word  of  life  and  truth  impart, 
That  we  may  love  not  do&rines  flrange, 
Nor  e'er  to  other  teachers  range, 
But  Jefus  for  our  Mailer  own, 
And  put  our  truft  in  Him  alone. 

Hallelujah,  Hallelujah ! 

Thou  Sacred  Ardour,  Comfort  Sweet, 
Help  us  to  wait  with  ready  feet 


n8 


fgra  ©errn  antra. 


And  willing  heart  at  Thy  command, 
Nor  trial  fright  us  from  Thy  band. 
Lord,  make  us  ready  with  Thy  powers, 
Strengthen  the  flelh  in  weaker  hours, 
That  as  good  warriors  we  may  force 
Through  life  and  death  to  Thee  our  courfe. 

Hallelujah,  Hallelujah! 

Luther.     1524. 


£m*a  (Sevmamca.  119 


TRINITY  SUNDAY. 


And  God  faid,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image. — From 
the  Lesson. 


1: 


jdr^ 


OST  High  and  Holy  Trinity! 
^     Who  of  Thy  mercy  mild 

Haft  form'd  me  here  in  Time,  to  be 
Thy  image  and  Thy  child : 
Oh  let  me  love  Thee  day  and  night 
With  all  my  foul,  with  all  my  might ; 
Oh  come,  Thyfelf  my  foul  prepare, 
And  make  Thy  dwelling  ever  there! 

Father  !  replenifh  with  Thy  grace 

This  longing  heart  of  mine, 
Make  it  Thy  quiet  dwelling-place, 
Thy  facred  inmoft  fhrine  ! 
Forgive  that  oft  my  fpirit  wears 
Her  time  and  ftrength  in  trivial  cares, 
Enfold  her  in  Thy  changelefs  peace, 
So  me  from  all  but  Thee  may  ceafe! 

O  God  the  Son  !  Thy  wifdom's  light 

On  my  dark  reafon  pour ; 
Forgive  that  things  of  fenfe  and  fight 

Were  all  her  joy  of  yore; 


120  Cgrct  ©*rntcxnfca. 

Henceforth  let  every  thought  and  deed 
On  Thee  be  fix'd,  from  Thee  proceed, 
Draw  me  to  Thee,  for  I  would  rife 
Above  thefe  earthly  vanities! 

O  Holy  Ghoft!  Thou  fire  of  love, 

Enkindle  with  Thy  flame  my  will; 
Come  with  Thy  ftrength,  Lord,  from  above,  \J 
Help  me  Thy  bidding  to  fulfil:  ^S 
Forgive  that  I  fo  oft  have  done 
What  I  as  fmful  ought  to  fhun; 
Let  me  with  pure  and  quenchlefs  fire 
Thy  favour  and  Thyfelf  defire  ! 

Moft  High  and  Holy  Trinity! 

Draw  me  away  far  hence, 
And  fix  upon  eternity 

All  powers  of  foul  and  fenfe ! 
Make  me  at  one  within;  at  one 
With  Thee  on  earth;  when  life  is  done 
Take  me  to  dwell  in  light  with  Thee, 
Moft  High  and  Holy  Trinity! 

Angelus.     1657. 


fgra  ©mnamra.  121 


FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

God  is  Love  .  .  and  herein  is  love,  not  that  we  loved 
God,  but  that  He  loved  us.— From  the  Epistle. 

N  wings  of  faith,  ye  thoughts,  %  hence, 
Roam  o'er  Eternity's  vaft  field, 
Surpafs  the  bounds  of  time  and  fenfe, 
And  rife  to  Him  who  hath  reveal'd 
That  He  is  Love:  there  paufe,  and  aweftruck  view 
That  ancient  love  with  every  morning  new ! 

Ere  earth's  foundations  yet  were  laid, 

Or  heaven's  fair  roof  were  fpread  abroad, 
Ere  man  a  living  foul  was  made, 

Love  ftirr'd  within  the  heart  of  God; 
Love  fill'd  the  long  futurity  with  good, 
And  grace  to  help  at  need  befide  her  flood. 

Thy  loving  counfel  gave  to  me 

True  life  in  Chrift  Thy  only  Son, 
Whom  Thou  haft  made  our  way  to  Thee, 
From  whom  all  grace  flows  ever  down. 
Whofe  precious  blood  can  make  us  pure  and  whole, 
And  blefs  and  hallow  all  our  inmoft  foul. 

O  Love,  that  long  ere  time  began, 

That  precious  name  of  child  beftow'd; 
That  open'd  Heaven  on  earth  to  man, 
And  call'd  us  finners  fons  of  God ; 
Thy  gracious  promptings  move  the  Father's  hand. 
And  on  the  Dage  of  life  our  names  fhall  ftand ! 


122  Cgra  ©evmantca. 

Ah  happy  hours,  whene'er  upfprings 

My  foul  to  yon  Eternal  Source, 
Whence  the  glad  river  downward  lings, 
Watering  with  goodnefs  all  my  courfe, 
So  that  each  palling  day  anew  I  prove 
How  tender  and  how  true  my  Father's  love! 

For  what  am  I  ?  At  His  command 

The  million  creatures  of  His  power 
Start  into  life  on  fea  and  land; 

Oh  why  Ihould  God  fuch  bleffings  Ihower 
On  me,  who  am  a  leaf  that  fadeth  fall, 
A  little  fhifting  dull  before  the  blaft ! 

I  am  not  worthy,  Lord,  that  Thou 

Shouldll  fuch  companion  on  me  Ihow ; 
That  He  who  made  the  world  Ihould  bow 
To  cheer  with  love  a  wretch  fo  low. 
O  Father,  I  would  utterly  refign 
Myfelf  to  Thee ;  take  me,  and  make  me  Thine. 

When  llrength  and  heart  grow  faint  and  fad, 

From  battling  long  with  heavy  pain, 

Thy  fmile  lhines  forth  to  make  me  glad, 

Thou  crownell  me  with  joy  again ; 

Then  I  behold  Thy  Spirit's  wondrous  power, 

Whofe  work  is  mightiell  in  our  weakeil  hour. 

Forth  from  Thy  rich  and  bounteous  llore 

Life's  common  bleffings  daily  flow, 
More  than  we  dare  to  alk,  far  more 
Than  we  deferve,  doll  Thou  bellow. 
My  heart  diffblves  in  tears  of  thankfulnefs, 
To  fee  how  true  Thy  care,  how  quick  to  blefs. 


Cgra  ©jcrmanua.  123 

Nor  here  alone :  hope  pierces  far 

Through  all  the  fhades  of  earth  and  time; 

Faith  mounts  beyond  the  fartheft  ftar, 

Yon  mining  heights  me  fain  would  climb, 

And  gazing  on  eternity  behold 

The  promifed  land,  our  heritage  of  old. 

Can  I  with  lovelefs  heart  receive 

Tokens  of  love  that  never  ceafe  ? 
Can  I  be  thanklefs  ftill,  and  grieve 
Him  who  is  all  my  joy  and  peace? 
Ah  Friend  of  Man,  were  I  to  turn  from  Thee, 
Myfelf  were  fure  my  own  worft  enemy. 

Could  I  but  honour  Thee  aright, 

Noble  and  fweet  my  fong  fhould  be; 
That  earth  and  heaven  mould  learn  Thy  might, 
And  what  my  God  hath  done  for  me. 
There  is  no  mufic  fweet  as  is  Thy  name, 
No  joy  fo  deep  as  pondering  o'er  Thy  fame. 

O  heart  redeem'd!  thou  think'ft  it  long 

Till  the  appointed  hour  be  come, 
When  thou  fhalt  join  the  angels'  fong 

To  that  Fair  Love  that  brought  thee  home. 
Have  patience,  heart;  time  hurries  fall  away, 
Soon  fhalt  thou  reach  the  one  Eternal  Day. 

J.  G.  Hermann.      1747. 


6 


I24  Cgra  (Snrmamca. 


SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

And  this  is  His  commandment;  That  we  mould  be- 
lieve on  the  name  of  His  Son  Jems  Chrift,  and  love 
one  another,  as  He  gave  us  commandment. — From  the 
Epistle. 

EART  and  heart  together  bound, 
Seek  in  God  your  true  repofe, 
In  your  love  the  price  be  found 
Of  your  Saviour's  love  and  woes ; 
We  the  members,  He  the  Head, 

He  the  fun,  we  beams  He  fhowers, 
Brethren  by  one  Matter  led, 
We  are  His,  and  He  is  ours. 

Children  of  His  realm  draw  near, 

Make  your  covenant  ftronger  ftill, 
From  your  hearts  allegiance  fwear 

Unto  Him  who  conquer'd  ill. 
If  your  bonds  are  yet  too  weak, 

If  but  fragile  yet  they  prove, 
Help  from  His  good  Spirit  feek 

Who  can  fteel  the  chains  of  love. 

Only  fuch  love  will  fuffice, 

As  the  love  that  dwells  in  Him, 
Love  that  from  the  crofs  ne'er  flies, 

Love  that  fpares  not  life  or  limb; 


£t|ra  ©ermamca.  I25 

'Twas  for  fmners  He  was  flain, 
'Twas  for  foes  He  fhed  His  blood, 

That  His  death  for  all  might  gain 
Endlefs  life— the  Higheft  Good. 

Thus,  O  trueft  Friend,  unite 

All  Thy  confecrated  band, 
That  their  hearts  be  fet  aright 

To  fulfil  Thy  laft  command. 
Each  mufl  onward  urge  his  friend, 

Helping  him  in  word  and  deed, 
Love's  bleft  pathway  to  afcend, 

Following  where  Thou,  Lord,  doft  lead. 

Thou  who  doll  command  that  all 

Pradtife  love  that  bear  Thy  name, 
Wake  the  dead,  new  followers  call, 

Touch  the  flothful  with  Thy  flame. 
Let  us  live,  O  Lord,  at  one, 

As  Thou  with  the  Father  art, 
That  through  all  the  world  be  none 

Of  Thy  members  left  apart. 

Then  were  given  what  Thou  haft  fought, 

In  the  Son  were  all  men  freed, 
And  the  world  at  laft  were  taught 

That  Thy  rule  is  bleft  indeed. 
Father  of  all  fouls,  we  praife 

Thee  who  ftiineft  in  the  Son ; 
Lord,  to  Thee  our  hymns  we  raife, 

Who  haft  all  men  to  Thee  drawn ! 

After  Zinzendorf. 
About  1 73 1. 


i26  £^ra  ©armcmica. 


THIRD  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 


Cast  all  your  care  upon  Him,  for  He  careth  for  you. 

From  the  Epistle. 


HAT  within  me  and  without, 
<n     Hourly  on  my  fpirit  weighs, 

Burdening  heart  and  foul  with  doubt, 
Darkening  all  my  weary  days : 
In  it  I  behold  Thy  will, 

God,  who  giveft  reft  and  peace, 
And  my  heart  is  calm  and  ftill, 
Waiting  till  Thou  fend  releafe. 


God !  Thou  art  my  rock  of  ftrength, 

And  my  home  is  in  Thine  arms, 
Thou  wilt  fend  me  help  at  length, 

And  I  feel  no  wild  alarms. 
Sin  nor  Death  can  pierce  the  fhield 

Thy  defence  has  o'er  me  thrown, 
Up  to  Thee  myfelf  I  yield, 

And  my  forrows  are  Thine  own. 

When  my  trials  tarry  long, 
Unto  Thee  I  look  and  wait, 

Knowing  none,  though  keen  and  ftrong, 
Can  my  truft  in  Thee  abate. 


£m*a  ©armanica.  *27 

And  this  faith  I  long  have  nurft, 
Comes  alone,  O  God,  from  Thee; 

Thou  my  heart  didft  open  firft, 
Thou  didft  fet  this  hope  in  me. 

Chriftians !   cafe  on  Him  your  load, 

To  your  tower  of  refuge  fly; 
Know  He  is  the  Living  God, 

Ever  to  His  creatures  nigh. 
Seek  His  ever-open  door 

In  your  hours  of  utmoft  need ; 
All  your  hearts  before  Him  pour, 

He  will  fend  you  help  with  fpeed. 

But  haft  thou  fome  darling  plan, 

Cleaving  to  the  things  of  earth  ? 
Leaned  thou  for  aid  on  man  ? 

Thou  wilt  find  him  nothing  worth. 
Rather  truil  the  One  alone 

Whofe  is  endlefs  power  and  love, 
And  the  help  He  gives  His  own, 

Thou  in  very  deed  malt  prove. 

On  Thee,  O  my  God,  I  reft, 

Letting  life  float  calmly  on, 
For  I  know  the  la  ft  is  beft, 

When  the  crown  of  joy  is  won. 
In  Thy  might  all  things  I  bear, 

In  Thy  love  find  bitters  fweet, 
And  with  all  my  grief  and  care 

Sit  in  patience  at  Thy  feet. 


i28  £tjra  ©armanka. 


O  my  foul,  why  art  thou  vex'd  ? 

Let  things  go  e'en  as  they  will; 
Though  to  thee  they  feem  perplex'd, 

Yet  His  order  they  fulfil. 
Here  He  is  thy  ftrength  and  guard, 

Power  to  harm  thee  here  has  none; 
Yonder  will  He  each  reward 

For  the  works  he  here  has  done. 

Let  Thy  mercy's  wings  be  fpread 

0?er  me,  keep  me  clofe  to  Thee, 
In  the  peace  Thy  love  doth  fhed, 

Let  me  dwell  eternally. 
Be  my  All;  in  all  I  do 

Let  me  only  feek  Thy  will, 
Where  the  heart  to  Thee  is  true, 

All  is  peaceful,  calm  and  ftill. 

A.  H.  Francke.     i  663-1 727. 


Cgrct  (gmnamca.  I29 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 


I  reckon  that  the  fufferings  of  this  prefent  time  are 
not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  that  mall 
be  revealed  in  us. — From  the  Epistle. 


OULD'ST  thou  inherit  life  with  Chrift 
^  on  high? 

Then  count  the  coft,  and  know 
That  here  on  earth  below 
Thou  needs  mull  fuffer  with  thy  Lord  and  die. 
We  reach  that  gain  to  which  all  elfe  is  lofs, 
But  through  the  crofs. 

Oh  think  what  forrows  Chrift  Himfelf  has  known ! 

The  fcorn,  and  anguifh  fore, 

The  bitter  death  He  bore, 
Ere  he  afcended  to  His  heavenly  throne; 
And  deemeft  thou,  thou  canft  with  right  complain, 
Whate'er  thy  pain? 

Not  e'en  the  fharpeft  forrows  we  can  feel, 
Nor  keeneft  pangs,  we  dare 
With  that  great  blifs  compare 
When  God  His  glory  fhall  in  us  reveal, 
That  fhall  endure  when  our  brief  woes  are  o'er 
For  evermore ! 

Simon  Dach.     1640. 
7* 


'3°  £$va  (Scrmanka. 


FIFTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

And  who  is  he  that  will  harm  you,  if  ye  be  followersv 
of  that  which  is  good  ?  But  and  if  ye  fufFer  for  right- 
eoufnefs  fake,  happy  are  ye ;  and  be  not  afraid  of  their 
terror,  neither  be  troubled;  but  fandtify  the  Lord  God 
in  your  hearts. — From  the  Epistle. 

F  God  be  on  my  fide, 

Then  let  who  will  oppofe, 
For  oft  ere  now  to  Him  I  cried, 

And  He  hath  quell'd  my  foes. 
If  Jefus  be  my  Friend, 
If  God  doth  love  me  well, 
What  matters  all  my  foes  intend, 

Though  ftrong  they  be  and  fell. 

Here  I  can  firmly  reft, 

I  dare  to  boaft  of  this, 
That  God  the  Higheft  and  the  Beft, 

My  Friend  and  Father  is. 

From  dangerous  fnares  He  faves, 

Where'er  He  bids  me  go 
He  checks  the  ftorms  and  calms  the  waves, 

Nor  lets  aught  work  me  woe. 

I  reft  upon  the  ground 
Of  Jefus  and  His  blood, 
For  'tis  through  Him  that  I  have  found 
The  True  Eternal  Good. 


iCma  ©tvmamcct.  13 

Nought  have  I  of  mine  own, 
Nought  in  the  life  I  lead, 
What  Chrift  hath  given  me,  that  alone 
Is  worth  all  love  indeed. 

His  Spirit  in  me  dwells, 

O'er  all  my  mind  He  reigns, 
All  care  and  fadnefs  He  difpels, 

And  foothes  away  all  pains. 

He  profpers  day  by  day 

His  work  within  my  heart, 
Till  I  have  flrength  and  faith  to  fay, 

Thou  God  my  Father  art! 

When  weaknefs  on  me  lies 

And  tempts  me  to  defpair, 
He  fpeaketh  words  and  utters  fighs 

Of  more  than  mortal  prayer; 

But  what  no  tongue  can  tell, 

Thou  God  canft  hear  and  fee, 
Who  readeft  in  the  heart  full  well 

If  aught  there  pleafeth  Thee. 

He  whifpers  in  my  breaft 

Sweet  words  of  holy  cheer, 
How  he  who  feeks  in  God  his  reft 

Shall  ever  find  Him  nearly 

How  God  hath  built  above 

A  city  fair  and  new, 
Where  eye  and  heart  mail  fee  and  prove 

What  faith  has  counted  true. 


*32  Cgra  <&zvmanka. 

There  is  prepared  on  high 

My  heritage,  my  lot; 
Though  here  on  earth  I  fall  and  die, 

My  heaven  mall  fail  me  not. 

Though  here  my  days  are  dark, 

And  oft  my  tears  mult  rain, 
Whene'er  my  Saviour's  light  I  mark, 

All  things  grow  bright  again. 

Who  joins  him  to  that  Lord 
Whom  Satan  flies  and  hates, 

Shall  find  himfelf  defpifed,  abhorr'd, 
For  him  the  burden  waits 
Of  mockery  and  lhame, 
Heap'd  on  his  guiltlefs  head; 

And  croffes,  trials,  cruel  blame, 
Shall  be  his  daily  bread. 

I  knew  it  long  ere  now, 

Yet  am  I  not  afraid; 
The  God  to  whom  I  pledged  my  vow, 

Will  furely  fend  His  aid. 

At  coft  of  all  I  have, 

At  coft  of  life  and  limb, 
I  cling  to  God  who  yet  mail  fave, 

I  will  not  turn  from  Him. 

The  world  may  fail  and  flee, 
Thou  ftandeft  faft  for  ever, 
Not  lire,  or  fword,  or  plague,  from  Thee 
My  trailing  foul  lhall  fever. 


jCjjra  ®*rmantca.  133 

No  hunger,  and  no  thirft, 
No  poverty  or  pain, 
Let  mighty  princes  do  their  worft, 
Shall  fright  me  back  again. 

No  joys  that  angels  know, 

No  throne  or  wide-fpread  fame, 
No  love  or  lofs,  no  fear  or  woe, 

No  grief  of  heart  or  fhame — 

Man  cannot  aught  conceive 

Of  pleafure  or  of  harm, 
That  e'er  could  tempt  my  foul  to  leave 

Her  refuge  in  Thine  arm. 


My  heart  for  gladnefs  fprings, 
It  cannot  more  be  fad, 

For  very  joy  it  laughs  and  lings, 
Sees  nought  but  funihine  glad. 
The  fun  that  glads  mine  eyes 
Is  Chrift  the  Lord  I  love, 

I  fing  for  joy  of  that  which  lies 
Stored  up  for  us  above. 


Paul  Gerhardt.     1650. 


*34  JLQxa  fcmamca. 


SIXTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

Know  ye  not,  that  fo  many  of  us  as  were  baptifed  into 
Chrift,  were  baptifed  into  His  death? — From  the 
Epistle. 

ELL  for  him  who  all  things  lofing, 
<n      E'en  himfelf  doth  count  as  nought, 
Still  the  one  thing  needful  choofing 
/^S^a  That  with  all  true  blifs  is  fraught! 

Well  for  him  who  nothing  knoweth 
But  his  God,  whofe  boundlefs  love 

Makes  the  heart  wherein  it  gloweth, 
Calm  and  pure  as  faints  above ! 

Well  for  him  who  all  forfaking, 

Walketh  not  in  fhadows  vain, 
But  the  path  of  peace  is  taking 

Through  this  vale  of  tears  and  pain ! 

Oh  that  we  our  hearts  might  fever 

From  earth's  tempting  vanities, 
Fixing  them  on  Him  for  ever 

In  whom  all  our  fulnefs  lies ! 

Oh  that  we  might  Him  difcover 

Whom  with  longing  love  we've  fought, 

Join  ourfelves  to  Him  for  ever, 
For  without  Him  all  is  nought! 


€$xa  ©trmcmica.  135 

Oh  that  ne'er  our  eyes  might  wander 
From  our  God,  fo  might  we  ceafe 

Ever  o'er  our  fins  to  ponder, 
And  our  confcience  be  at  peace ! 

Thou  abyfs  of  love  and  goodnefs, 

Draw  us  by  Thy  crofs  to  Thee, 
That  our  fenfes,  foul  and  fpirit, 

Ever  one  with  Chrift  may  be ! 

Anon. 


136  &#va  ©armantca. 


SEVENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

O  Lord,  how  manifold  are  Thy  works;  in  wifdom 
haft  Thou  made  them  all;  the  earth  is  full  of  Thy 
riches.— ^-Psalm  civ.  24. 

O  forth,  my  heart,  and  feek  delight 
In  all  the  gifts  of  God's  great  might, 

Thefe  pleafant  mmmer  hours: 
Look  how  the  plains  for  thee  and  me 
Have  deck'd  themfelves  moft  fair  to  fee, 
All  bright  and  fweet  with  flowers. 

The  trees  ftand  thick  and  dark  with  leaves, 
And  earth  o'er  all  her  dull  now  weaves 

A  robe  of  living  green ; 
Nor  filks  of  Solomon  compare 
With  glories  that  the  tulips  wear, 

Or  lilies'  fpotlefs  flieen. 

The  lark  foars  fmging  into  fpace, 
The  dove  forfakes  her  hiding-place, 

And  coos  the  woods  among; 
The  richly-gifted  nightingale, 
Pours  forth  her  voice  o'er  hill  and  dale, 

And  floods  the  fields  with  fong. 

Here  with  her  brood  the  hen  doth  walk, 
There  builds  and  guards  his  neft  the  ftork, 
The  fleet-wing'd  fwallows  pafs; 


Ctjva  ©armanica.  137 

The  fwift  flag  leaves  his  rocky  home, 
And  down  the  light  deer  bounding  come 
To  tafte  the  long  rich  grafs. 

The  brooks  rum  gurgling  through  the  fand, 
And  from  the  trees  on  either  hand, 

Cool  fhadows  o'er  them  fall ; 
The  meadows  at  their  fide  are  glad 
With  herds;  and  hark!  the  ihepherd  lad 

Sends  forth  his  mirthful  call. 

And  humming,  hovering  to  and  fro, 
The  never-wearied  fwarms  forth  go 

To  feek  their  honey'd  food ; 
And  through  the  vine's  yet  feeble  moots 
Stream  daily  upwards  from  her  roots 

New  ftrength  and  juices  good. 

The  corn  fprings  up,  a  wealth  untold, 
A  fight  to  gladden  young  and  old, 

Who  now  their  voices  lift 
To  Him  who  gives  fuch  plenteous  flore, 
And  makes  the  cup  of  life  run  o'er 

With  many  a  noble  gift. 

Thy  mighty  working,  mighty  God, 
Wakes  all  my  powers;  I  look  abroad 

And  can  no  longer  reft : 
I  too  muft  fing  when  all  things  iing, 
And  from  my  heart  the  praifes  ring 

The  Higheft  loveth  beft. 


*38  £gra  ®*rmamca. 

I  think,  Art  Thou  fo  good  to  us, 
And  fcattereft  joy  and  beauty  thus 

O'er  this  poor  earth  of  ours ; 
What  nobler  glories  mall  be  given 
Hereafter  in  Thy  mining  heaven, 

Set  round  with  golden  towers ! 

What  thrilling  joy  when  on  our  fight 
Chrift's  garden  beams  in  cloudlefs  light, 

Where  all  the  air  is  fweet, 
Still  laden  with  the  unwearied  hymn 
From  all  the  thoufand  feraphim 

Who  God's  high  praife  repeat! 

Oh  were  I  there  !  Oh  that  I  now, 

Dear  God,  before  Thy  throne  could  bow, 

And  bear  my  heavenly  palm ! 
Then  like  the  angels  would  I  raife 
My  voice,  and  fmg  Thy  endlefs  praife 

In  many  a  fweet-toned  pfalm. 

Nor  can  I  now,  O  God,  forbear, 
Though  ftill  this  mortal  yoke  I  wear, 

To  utter  oft  Thy  name; 
But  ftill  my  heart  is  bent  to  fpeak 
Thy  praifes ;  frill,  though  poor  and  weak, 

Would  I  fet  forth  Thy  fame. 

But  help  me;  let  Thy  heavenly  mowers 
Revive  and  blefs  my  fainting  powers, 
And  let  me  thrive  and  grow 


£gra  (Sn*manica.  139 

Beneath  the  fummer  of  Thy  grace, 

And  fruits  of  faith  bud  forth  apace 

While  yet  I  dwell  below. 

And  fet  me,  Lord,  in  Paradife 

When  I  have  bloomed  beneath  thefe  ikies 

Till  my  laft  leaf  is  flown ; 
Thus  let  me  ferve  Thee  here  in  time, 
And  after,  in  that  happier  clime, 

And  Thee,  my  God,  alone! 

Paul  Gerhardt.      1659. 


1 4°  £gra  <&ermanica. 


EIGHTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

Brethren,  we  are  debtors,  not  to  the  flefh,  to  live  after 
the  flefh.  For  if  ye  live  after  the  flefh,  ye  fhall  die ; 
but  if  ye  through  the  Spirit  do  mortify  the  deeds  of 
the  body,  ye  fhall  live. — From  the  Epistle. 

GOD,  O  Spirit,  Light  of  all  that  live, 
Who  doft  on  us  that  fit  in  darknefs 
fhine, 
Our  darknefs  ever  with  Thy  light  doth 
ftrive, 
In  vain  Thou  lur'fl  us  with  Thy  beams  divine. 
Yet  none,  O  Spirit,  from  Thine  eye  can  hide, 
Gladly  will  I  Thy  fearching  glance  abide. 

Search  all  my  hidden  parts,  whate'er  impure 

Thy  Light  difcovers  there,  do  Thou  deftroy; 
The  bittereft  pain  I  willingly  endure, 
Such  pain  is  folio  w'd  by  eternal  joy. 
Thou'lt  cleanfe  me  from  my  ftains  of  darkefl  hue, 
And  in  Chrifl's  image  form  my  foul  anew. 

I  cannot  flay  the  venom'd  power  of  fin, 

'Tis  Thy  anointing  only  can  avail; 
Oh  make  my  fpirit  new  and  right  within, 
For  without  Thee  my  utmofl  efforts  fail. 
Life  to  my  cold  dead  foul  I  cannot  give, 
Be  Thou  my  life,  fo  only  fhall  I  live. 


£ma  (Srvmanica.  H1 

O  Breath  from  out  the  Eternal  Silence,  blow 

All  foftly  o'er  my  fpirit's  barren  ground, 
All  precious  fulnefs  of  my  God  bellow, 

That  where  erfl  fin  and  fhame  alone  were  found, 
Faith,  love,  and  holy  reverence  may  upfpring, 
In  fpirit  and  in  truth  to  worfhip  God  our  King. 

Oh  let  my  thoughts,  my  actions  and  my  will 

Obedient  folely  to  Thy  impulfe  move, 
My  heart  and  fenfes  keep  Thou  blamelefs  ftill, 
Fix'd  and  abforb'd  in  God's  unutter'd  love. 
Thy  praying,  teaching,  ilriving,  in  my  heart, 
Let  me  not  quench,  nor  make  Thee  to  depart. 

0  Fount,  O  Spirit,  who  doll  take  and  mow 
Things  of  the  Son  to  us,  who  cryflal  clear, 

From  God's  throne  and  the  Lamb's,  dofl  ceafelefs 
flow 
Into  the  quiet  hearts  that  feek  Thee  here ; 
I  open  wide  my  mouth,  and  thirfling  fink 
Befide  Thy  flream,  its  living  waves  to  drink. 

PP 

1  give  mylelf  to  Thee,  to  Thee  alone, 

From  all  elfe  funder'd,  Thou  art  ever  near, 
The  creature  and  myfelf  I  all  difown, 

Trufling  with  inmofl  faith  that  God  is  here ! 
)  God,  O  Spirit,  Light  of  Life,  we  fee 
None  ever  wait  in  vain,  who  wait  for  Thee. 

Tersteegen.     i  73  i. 


H2  Cgra  (Srnnanka. 


NINTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

How  long  halt  ye  between  two  opinions  ?  If  the  Lord 
be  God,  follow  Him ;  but  if  Baal,  then  follow  him. 

From  the  Lesson. 

HY  halteft  thus,  deluded  heart, 
y:     Why  wavered  longer  in  thy  choice? 
Is  it  fo  hard  to  choofe  the  part 
Offer'd  by  Heaven's  entreating  voice? 
Oh  look  with  clearer  eyes  again, 
Nor  ftrive  to  enter  in,  in  vain. 

Prefs  on! 

Remember,  'tis  not  Caefar's  throne, 
Nor  earthly  honour,  wealth  or  might, 

Whereby  God's  favour  fhall  be  mown 
To  him  who  conquers  in  this  fight; 

Himfelf  and  an  eternity 

Of  blifs  and  reft  He  offers  thee. 

Prefs  on ! 

God  crowneth  no  divided  heart; 

Oh  hallow  to  Him  all  thy  life ! 
Who  loveth  Jefus  but  in  part, 

He  works  himfelf  much  pain  and  ftrife, 
And  gains  what  he  deferveth  well, 
Here  conflict,  and  hereafter  hell. 

Prefs  on! 


i'ura  <&.rmanica.  H3 

Who  wreftling  long  with  many  a  cry, 

Can  bid  farewell  at  lafl  to  all; 
Yet  loveth  Hill  the  Lord  moll:  High, 

Loves  Him  alone  whate'er  befall, 

Is  counted  worthy  of  the  crown 

And  on  a  kingly  throne  fet  down. 

Prefs  on! 
-^ 

Then  break  the  rotten  bonds  away 
That  hinder  you  your  race  to  run, 

That  make  you  linger  oft  and  flay; 
Oh  be  your  courfe  afrefh  begun ! 

Let  no  falfe  reft  your  foul  deceive, 

Up !  'tis  a  Heaven  ye  muft  achieve ! 
Prefs  on! 

Omnipotence  is  on  your  fide, 
<\  And  wifdom  watches  o'er  your  heads, 

And  God  Himfelf  will  be  your  guide 
So  ye  but  follow  where  He  leads; 
How  many  guided  by  His  hand, 
Have  reach'd  ere  now  their  native  land. 
Prefs  on! 

Let  not  the  body  dull  the  foul, 

Its  weaknefs,  fears,  and  floth  defpife; 

Man  toils  and  roams  from  pole  to  pole 
To  gain  fome  earthly  fleeting  prize, 

The  Higheft  Good  he  little  cares 

To  win,  or  driving  foon  defpairs. 
Prefs  on. 


*44  Cgra  (Btrmanha. 


Oh  help  each  other,  haften  on, 

Behold  the  goal  is  nigh  at  hand; 
Soon  fhall  the  battle-field  be  won, 

Soon  fhall  your  King  before  you  ftand ! 
To  calmeft  reft  He  leads  you  now, 
And  fets  His  crown  upon  your  brow. 
Prefs  on. 

Lehr.     1733. 


£ma  (Smnanha.  hs 


TENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks,  even  fo 
panteth  my  foul  after  Thee,  O  God. — Psalm  xlii.  i. 

GOD,  I  long  Thy  light  to  fee, 
My  God,  I  hourly  think  on  Thee; 
Oh  draw  me  up,  nor  hide  Thy  face, 
But  help  me  from  Thy  holy  place. 

Ah  how  fhall  I  my  freedom  win? 
How  break  this  heavy  yoke  of  fin  ? 
My  fainting  fpirit  thirfts  for  Thee, 
Come,  Lord,  to  help  and  fet  me  free. 

My  heart  is  fet  to  do  Thy  will, 
But  all  my  deeds  are  faulty  ftill; 
My  bell  attempts  are  nothing  worth, 
But  foiPd  with  cleaving  taint  of  earth. 

Remember  that  I  am  Thy  child, 
Forgive  whate'er  my  foul  defiled, 
Blot  out  my  fins,  that  I  may  rife 
Freely  to  Thee  beyond  the  ikies. 

Help  me  to  love  the  world  no  mere, 
Be  Matter  of  my  houfe  and  ftore, 
The  fhield  of  faith  around  me  throw, 
And  break  the  arrows  of  my  foe. 
8 


H6  £gra  (Bzxmanka. 

Fain  would  my  heart  henceforward  be 
Fix'd,  O  my  God,  alone  on  Thee, 
That  heart  and  foul  by  Thee  poffeft, 
May  find  in  Thee  their  perfect  reft. 

Begone,  ye  pleafures  falfe  and  vain, 
Untafted,  undefired  remain! 
In  heaven  alone  thofe  joys  abound, 
Where  all  my  true  delight  is  found. 

Oh  take  away  whate'er  has  ftood 
Between  me  and  the  Higheft  Good; 
I  afk  no  better  boon  than  this, 
To  find  in  God  my  only  blifs. 

Anton  Ulrich, 
Duke  of  Brunfwick.      1667. 


Cnra  (6n*mamca.  H7 


ELEVENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

In  Thy  prefence  is  fullnefs  of  joy  ;  at  Thy  right  hand 
there  are  pleafures  for  evermore. — Psalm  xvi.  12. 

FRIEND  of  fouls,  how  well  is  me 
Whene'er  Thy  love  my  fpirit  calms ! 
*n  J  K       From  forrow's  dungeon  forth  I  flee, 

^J^v      And  hide  me  in  Thy  fhelt'ring  arms. 
The  night  of  weeping  flies  away 
Before  the  heart-reviving  ray 

Of  love,  that  beams  from  out  Thy  breaft; 
Here  is  my  heaven  on  earth  begun; 
Who  were  not  joyful  had  he  won 
In  Thee,  O  God,  his  joy  and  reft! 

The  world  may  call  herfelf  my  foe, 

So  be  it ;  for  I  truft  her  not, 
E'en  though  a  friendly  face  fhe  ihow, 

And  heap  with  her  good  things  my  lot. 
In  Thee  alone  will  I  rejoice, 
Thou  art  the  Friend,  Lord,  of  my  choice, 

For  Thou  art  true  when  friendlhips  fail; 
'Mid  ftorms  of  woe  Thy  truth  is  ftill 
My  anchor;  hate  me  as  it  will, 

The  world  mall  o'er  me  ne'er  prevail. 

Through  deferts  of  the  crofs  Thou  leadeft, 
I  follow  leaning  on  Thy  hand  ; 


H8  fima  ®n*manica. 

From  out  the  clouds  Thy  child  Thou  feedeft, 
And  giv'fl  him  water  from  the  fand. 

I  know  Thy  wondrous  ways  will  end 

In  love  and  blefling,  Thou  true  Friend, 
Enough  if  Thou  art  ever  near ! 

I  know,  whom  Thou  wilt  glorify, 

And  raife  o'er  fun  and  ftars  on  high, 

Thou  lead'ft  through  depths  and  darknefs  here. 

To  others  Death  feems  dark  and  grim, 

But  not,  Thou  Life  of  life,  to  me; 
I  know  Thou  ne'er  forfakeft  him 

Whofe  heart  and  fpirit  reft  in  Thee. 
Oh  who  would  fear  his  journey's  clofe, 
If  from  dark  woods  and  lurking  foes, 

He  then  find  fafety  and  releafe? 
Nay,  rather  with  a  joyful  heart 
From  this  dark  region  I  depart, 

To  Thy  eternal  light  and  peace. 

O  Friend  of  fouls,  then  well  indeed 

Is  me,  when  on  Thy  love  I  lean ! 
The  world,  nor  pain,  nor  death  I  heed, 

Since  Thou,  my  God,  my  joy  haft  been. 
Oh  let  this  peace  that  Thou  haft  given, 
Be  but  a  foretafte  of  Thy  heaven, 

For  goodnefs  infinite  is  Thine. 
Hence,  world,  with  all  thy  flattering  toys! 
In  God  alone  lie  all  my  joys; 

Oh  rich  delight,  my  Friend  is  mine! 

Deszler.      1692, 


fiQva  Qbmmnka.  H9 


TWELFTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

Not  that  we  are  fufEcient  of  ourfelves  to  think  any- 
thing as  of  ourfelves,  but  our  fufficiency  is  of  God. — 
From  the  Epistle. 


HO  feeks  in  weaknefs  an  excufe, 
^     His  fins  will  vanquifh  never; 
Unlefs  he  heart  and  mind  renews, 
He  is  deceived  for  ever. 
The  ftraight  and  narrow  way, 
That  mines  to  perfedT:  day, 
He  hath  not  found,  hath  never  trod ; 
Little  he  knows,  I  ween, 
What  prayer  and  conflict  mean 
To  one  who  hath  the  light  of  God. 


In  what  the  world  calls  weaknefs  lurks 

The  very  ftrength  of  evil, 

Full  mightily  it  helps  the  works 

Of  our  great  foe  the  devil. 

Awake,  my  foul,  awake, 

Quickly  thy  refuge  take 
With  Him,  the  Almighty,  who  can  fave : 

One  look  from  Chrift  thy  Lord 

Can  fever  every  cord 
That  binds  thee  now,  a  wretched  Have. 


is°  Cgva  ©armanica. 

Know,  the  firiT:  ftep  in  Chriftian  lore 

Is  to  depart  from  fin; 
True  faith  will  leave  the  world  no  more 

A  place  thy  heart  within. 
Thy  Saviour's  Spirit  firft 
The  heavy  bonds  muft  burft, 

Wherein  Death  bound  thee  in  thy  need; 
Then  the  freed  fpirit  knows 
What  ftrength  He  gives  to  thofe 

Who  with  their  Lord  are  rifen  indeed. 


And  what  Thy  Spirit,  Lord,  began 

Help  Thou  with  inner  might ! 
Earth  has  no  better  gift  for  man 

Than  ftrength  and  love  of  right. 
Oh  make  Thy  followers  juft 
Who  look  to  Thee  in  truft, 

Thy  ftrength  and  juftice  let  us  know ; 
Our  fouls  through  Thee  would  wear 
The  power  of  grace,  moft  fair 

Of  all  the  jewels  faith  can  fhow. 

Strong  Son  of  God,  break  down  Thy  foes, 
So  mail  we  conquer  ours; 
y  Strong  in  the  might  from  Thee  that  flows, 
We  mourn  not  lack  of  powers, 

E'er  fince  that  from  above, 

The  witnefs  of  Thy  love 
Thy  Spirit  came,  and  doth  abide 

With  us,  difpelling  fear 

And  falfehood,  that  we  here 
May  fight  and  conquer  on  Thy  fide. 


-' 

■ 

* 

• 

fUma  (Barmamca.  ls 

Give  ftrength,  whene'er  our  llrength  mufl  fail; 

Give  ftrength  the  fleih  to  curb; 
Give  ftrength  when  craft  and  fin  prevail 
To  weaken  and  difturb. 

The  world  doth  lay  her  fnares 
To  catch  us  unawares, 
Give  ftrength  to  fweep  them  all  away; 
So  in  our  utmoft  need, 
And  when  death  comes  indeed, 
Thy  ftrength  fhall  be  our  perfect  flay. 

Marperger.      i  71 3. 


52  Cgrct  (©rnnantca. 


THIRTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Then  Hezekiah  received  the  letter  of  the  hands  of 
the  meffengers,  and  read  it,  and  Hezekiah  went  up 
into  the  houfe  of  the  Lord,  and  fpread  it  before  the 
Lord. — From  the  Lesson. 

EAVE  God  to  order  all  thy  ways, 
And  hope  in  Him  whate'er  betide, 
Thou'lt  find  Him  in  the  evil  days 
Thy  all-fufficient  llrength  and  guide; 
Who  trufts  in  God's  unchanging  love, 
Builds  on  the  rock  that  nought  can  move. 

What  can  thefe  anxious  cares  avail, 
Thefe  never-ceafing  moans  and  fighs? 

What  can  it  help  us  to  bewail 
Each  painful  moment  as  it  flies? 

Our  crofs  and  trials  do  but  prefs 

The  heavier  for  our  bitternefs. 

Only  thy  refllefs  heart  keep  ftill, 

And  wait  in  cheerful  hope;  content 

To  take  whate'er  His  gracious  will, 
His  all-difcerning  love  hath  fent. 

Doubt  not  our  inmoft  wants  are  known 

To  Him  who  chofe  us  for  His  own. 


£ma  ©rnimniccx.  153 

He  knows  when  joyful  hours  are  belt, 

He  fends  them  as  He  fees  it  meet; 
When  thou  haft  borne  the  fiery  teft, 

And  art  made  free  from  all  deceit, 
He  comes  to  thee  all  unaware, 
And  makes  thee  own  His  loving  care. 

Nor,  in  the  heat  of  pain  and  ftrife, 

Think  God  hath  caft  thee  off  unheard, 

And  that  the  man,  whofe  prolperous  life 
Thou  envieft,  is  of  Him  preferr'd. 

Time  paffes  and  much  change  doth  bring, 

And  fets  a  bound  to  everything. 

All  are  alike  before  His  face ; 

'Tis  eafy  to  our  God  moft  High 
To  make  the  rich  man  poor  and  bale, 

To  give  the  poor  man  wealth  and  joy. 
True  wonders  Hill  by  Him  are  wrought, 
Who  fetteth  up,  and  brings  to  nought. 

Sing,  pray,  and  fwerve  not  from  His  ways, 

But  do  thine  own  part  faithfully, 
Truft  His  rich  promifes  of  grace, 

So  mall  they  be  fulfill'd  in  thee; 
God  never  yet  forfook  at  need 
The  foul  that  trufted  Him  indeed. 

Neumarck.      1653. 
8* 


54  Cgrct  ©rrmanicct. 


O 


FOURTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

And  they  that  are  Chrift's  have  crucified  the  flefh  with 
the  affections  and  lufts. — From  the  Epistle. 


CROSS,  we  hail  thy  bitter  reign, 
O  come,  thou  well-beloved  gueft ! 

Whofe  foreft  fufferings  work  not  pain, 
Whofe  heavieft  burden  is  but  reft. 


Is  not  our  Bleffed  Saviour  bound 

In  clofeft  ties  of  love  to  thofe 
Who  faithful  to  the  crofs  are  found, 

Through  ceafelefs  tears,  through  faddeft  woes? 

Hark,  the  confeflbrs  of  the  faith 
Yet  of  their  crofs  and  fetters  boaft ; 

All  faints  have  borne  it  to  the  death, 
With  all  the  martyrs*  radiant  hoft. 

Pledge  of  our  glorious  home  afar! 

Thee,  Holy  Sign,  with  joy  we  take, 
Sign  of  a  peace  life  could  not  mar, 

Of  juft  content  death  could  not  make. 

Thou  telPft  how  Truth,  once  crucified, 
Now  throned  in  majefty  doth  reign, 


flma  (Smnamca.  «55 

How  love  is  blefs'd  and  glorified, 

That  here  on  earth  was  mock'd  and  flain. 

Their  names  are  writ  in  words  of  light 

Who  before  men  their  Lord  confefl ; 
The  bridegroom's  cry  is  heard  at  night, 

Come  to  my  marriage  feaft,  ye  bleft! 

Who  then  would  faint,  nor  joy  to  mare 

In  Chrift's  reproach,  in  want  or  pain? 
The  bittereft  death  who  would  not  dare  ? 

Who  fears  a  martyr's  crown  to  gain? 

Up,  Brethren  of  the  Crofs !  and  hafte 

Onward  where  Chrift  hath  gone  before ! 
We  hymn  His  praife  the-while  we  taile  £"V"  <^"v- 

The  fhame  and  death  He  fometime  bore. 

In  bonds  and  ftripes,  in  falfeft  blame, 

Our  crown,  our  deareft  wealth  we  fee, 
A  prifon  were  a  throne,  and  fhame 

Our  chiefeft  glory,  borne  for  Thee. 

What  though  the  world  contempt  may  fling 

On  us,  though  oft  we  ftrive  with  death, 
The  holy  angels  fpeed  to  bring 

Our  help  and  ftrength,  our  viflor's  wreath. 

Up,  quit  the  gates  where  fin  abides, 

From  earth's  doom'd  cities  quickly  come, 
Yon  eaflern  Star  full  furely  guides 

All  pilgrims  to  their  Father's  home. 

GOTTER.        1697. 


is6  £ma  (Bermanica. 


FIFTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

Therefore  take  no  thought,  faying,  What  fhall  we 
eat,  or  what  fhall  we  drink  .  .  for  your  Heavenly 
Father  knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  all  thefe  things. 
— From  the  Gospel. 

E  thou  content;  be  ftill  before 

His  face,  at  whofe  right  hand  doth  reign 
Fulnefs  of  joy  for  evermore, 
Without  whom  all  thy  toil  is  vain. 
He  is  thy  living  fpring,  thy  fun,  whofe  rays 
Make  glad  with  life  and  light  thy  dreary  days. 
Be  thou  content. 

Art  thou  all  friendlefs  and  alone, 

Haft  none  in  whom  thou  canft  confide? 
God  careth  for  thee,  lonely  one, 
Comfort  and  help  will  He  provide. 
He  fees  thy  forrows  and  thy  hidden  grief, 
He  knoweth  when  to  fend  thee  quick  relief; 
Be  thou  content. 

Thy  heart's  unfpoken  pain  He  knows, 
Thy  fecret  fighs  He  hears  full  well, 
What  to  none  elfe  thou  dar'ft  difclofe, 
To  Him  thou  mayft  with  boldnefs  tell. 
He  is  not  far  away,  but  ever  nigh, 
And  anfwereth  willingly  the  poor  man's  cry. 
Be  thou  content. 


Cjira  ©ermamca.  157 

Why  art  thou  full  of  anxious  fear 

How  thou  fhalt  be  fuftain'd  and  fed? 
He  who  hath  made  and  placed  thee  here, 
Will  give  thee  needful  daily  bread. 
Canft  thou  not  trull  His  rich  and  bounteous  hand, 
Who  feeds  all  living  things  on  fea  and  land? 
Be  thou  content. 

He  who  doth  teach  the  little  birds 

To  find  their  meat  in  field  and  wood, 
Who  gives  the  countlefs  flocks  and  herds, 
Each  day  their  needful  drink  and  food, 
Thy  hunger  too  will  furely  fatisfy,  - 
And  all  thy  wants  in  His  good  time  fupply. 
Be  thou  content. 

Sayft  thou,  I  know  not  how  or  where, 

No  help  I  fee  where'er  I  turn ; 
When  of  all  elfe  we  moll  defpair, 
The  riches  of  God's  love  we  learn; 
When  thou  and  I  His  hand  no  longer  trace, 
He  leads  us  forth  into  a  pleafant  place. 

Be  thou  content. 

Though  long  His  promifed  aid  delay, 

At  laft  it  will  be  furely  fent; 
Though  thy  heart  fink  in  fore  difmay, 
The  trial  for  thy  good  is  meant. 
What  we  have  won  with  pains  we  hold  more  faft, 
What  tarrieth  long  is  fweeter  at  the  laft. 
Be  thou  content. 


*58  £qv<x  ©ermcmica. 

Lay  not  to  heart  whate'er  of  ill 

Thy  foes  may  falfely  fpeak  of  thee, 
Let  man  defame  thee  as  he  will, 
God  hears,  and  judges  righieoufly. 
Why  fhouldft  thou  fear,  if  God  be  on  thy  fide, 
Man's  cruel  anger,  or  malicious  pride  ? 

Be  thou  content. 

We  know  for  us  a  reft  remains, 

When  God  will  give  us  fweet  releafe 
•  From  earth  and  all  our  mortal  chains, 
And  turn  our  fufFerings  into  peace. 
Sooner  or  later  death  will  furely  come 
To  end  our  forrows,  and  to  take  us  home. 
Be  thou  content. 

Home  to  the  chofen  ones,  who  here 

Served  their  Lord  faithfully  and  well, 
Who  died  in  peace,  without  a  fear, 
And  there  in  peace  for  ever  dwell. 
The  Everlafting  is  their  joy  and  ftay, 
The  Eternal  Word  Himfelf  to  them  doth  fay, 
Be  thou  content. 
Paul  Gerhardt.      1670. 


Cgra  ®mnamca.  159 


SIXTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

And  when  the  Lord  faw  her,  He  had  compaffion  on 
her  and  faid  unto  her,  Weep  not ! — From  the  Gospel. 

EAVE  all  to  God, 
Forfaken  one,  and  ftill  thy  tears. 

For  the  Higheft  knows  thy  pain, 
Sees  thy  fufferings  and  thy  fears; 
Thou  fhalt  not  wait  His  help  in  vain, 
Leave  all  to  God. 

Be  ftill  and  trull: ! 
For  His  ftrokes  are  ftrokes  of  love, 
Thou  mull  for  thy  profit  bear; 
He  thy  filial  fear  would  move, 
Truft  thy  Father's  loving  care, 
Be  ftill  and  truft  ! 

Know,  God  is  near! 
Though  thou  think  Him  far  away, 

Though  His  mercy  long  have  flept, 
He  will  come  and  not  delay, 

When  His  child  enough  hath  wept, 
For  God  is  near ! 

O  teach  Him  not 
When  and  how  to  hear  thy  prayers; 


160  £$v<x  ©*rmanica. 

Never  doth  our  God  forget, 
He  the  crofs  who  longeft  bears 
Finds  his  forrows'  bounds  are  fet, 
Then  teach  Him  not. 

If  thou  love  Him, 
Walking  truly  in  His  ways, 

Then  no  trouble,  crofs  or  death, 
Shakes  thy  heart,  or  quells  thy  praife. 
All  things  ferve  thee  here  beneath, 
If  thou  love  God ! 

Anton  Ulrich, 
Duke  of  Brunfwick.      1667. 


f£ma  t&txmanka.  161 


SEVENTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

I  beseech  you  that  ye  walk  worthy  of  the  vocation 
wherewith  ye  are  called,  with  all  lowlinefs  and  meek- 
nefs,  with  longfuffering,  forbearing  one  another  in 
love;  endeavouring  to  keep  the  unity  of  the  fpirit  in 
the  bond  of  peace. — From  the  Epistle. 

OME,  brethren,  let  us  go  ! 
The  evening  clofeth  round, 
'Tis  perilous  to  linger  here 
On  this  wild  defert  ground. 
Take  courage  as  ye  wend 
On  towards  eternity, 

From  ftrength  to  ftrength  your  courfe  mall  be, 
And  good  at  laft  your  end. 

We  fhall  not  rue  our  choice, 
Though  ftrait  our  path  and  fteep, 
We  know  that  He  who  call'd  us  here 
His  word  mail  ever  keep. 
Then  follow,  trufting;  come, 

And  let  each  fet  his  face 

Toward  yonder  fair  and  blefTed  place, 
Intent  to  reach  our  home. 

The  body  and  the  houfe 
Deck  not,  but  deck  the  heart 


1 62  £gra  ©ermanka. 

With  all  your  powers;  we  are  but  guefts, 
Ere  long  we  mull  depart. 
Eafe  brings  difeafe;  content 
Howe'er  his  lot  may  fall, 
A  pilgrim  bears  and  bows  to  all, 
For  foon  the  time  is  fpent. 

Come,  children,  let  us  go ! 

Our  Father  is  our  guide ; 
And  when  the  way  grows  fteep  and  dark, 

He  journeys  at  our  fide. 

Our  fpirits  He  would  cheer, 
The  funfhine  of  His  love 
Revives  and  helps  us  as  we  rove, 

Ah,  bleft  our  lot  e'en  here! 

Each  haflen  bravely  on, 
Not  yet  our  goal  is  near ; 
Look  to  the  fiery  pillar  oft, 
That  tells  the  Lord  is  here. 
Onward  your  glances  fend, 

Love  beckons  us,  nor  think 

That  they  who  following  chance  to  fink, 
Shall  mifs  their  journey's  end. 

Come,  children,  let  us  go! 

We  travel  hand  in  hand; 
Each  in  his  brother  finds  his  joy 

In  this  wild  ftranger  land. 

As  children  let  us  be, 
Nor  by  the  way  fall  out, 
The  angels  guard  us  round  about, 

And  help  us  brotherly. 


£m*ct  (Shmanka.  163 

The  ftrong  be  quick  to  raife 
The  weaker  when  they  fall; 
Let  love  and  peace  and  patience  bloom 
In  ready  help  for  all. 
In  love  yet  clofer  bound, 

Each  would  be  leaft,  yet  Hill 
On  love's  fair  path  moft  pure  from  ill, 
Moll  loving,  would  be  found. 

Come,  wander  on  with  joy, 
For  fhorter  grows  the  way, 
Each  rifing  sun  brings  on  the  time 
When  in  the  grave  we  lay 
The  body  down;  awhile 

Have  truth  and  courage  yet, 

Your  hopes  above  more  fully  fet, 
Carelefs  of  things  more  vile. 

It  will  not  lail  for  long, 

A  little  farther  roam; 
It  will  not  laft  much  longer  now 

Ere  we  fhall  reach  our  home; 

There  fhall  we  ever  reft, 

There  with  our  Father  dwell, 

With  all  the  faints  who  ferved  Him  well, 

There  truly,  deeply  bleft. 

For  this  all  things  we  dare, — 
'Tis  worth  the  rifle  I  trow, — 
Renouncing  all  that  clogs  our  courfe, 
Or  weighs  us  down  below. 


l64  £gra  ©armanica. 

O  world,  thou  art  too  fmall, 

We  feek  another  higher, 

Whither  Chrifl  guides  us  ever  nigher, 
Where  God  is  all  in  all. 

Friend  of  our  perfect  choice, 
Thou  Joy  of  all  that  live, 
Being  that  know'ft  not  chance  or  change, 
What  courage  doll  Thou  give ! 
All  beauty,  Lord,  we  fee, 
All  blifs  and  life  and  love, 
In  Him  in  whom  we  live  and  move, 
And  we  are  glad  in  Thee  ! 

Tersteegen.     i  73  i 


iima  (Scvmctmca.  165 


EIGHTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Waiting  for  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jefus  Chrift,  who 
mail  alfo  confirm  you  unto  the  end. — From  the  Epis- 
tle. 


HOUGH  all  to  Thee  were  faithlefs, 
I  yet  were  true  my  Head, 
To  mow  that  love  is  deathlefs, 
From  earth  not  wholly  fled. 
Here  didft  Thou  live  in  fadnefs, 

And  die  in  pain  for  me, 
Wherefore  I  give  with  gladnefs, 
My  heart  and  foul  to  Thee. 


I  could  weep  night  and  morning 

That  Thou  haft  died,  and  yet 
So  few  will  heed  Thy  warning, 

So  many  Thee  forget. 
O  loving  and  true-hearted, 

How  much  for  us  didft  Thou ! 
Yet  is  Thy  fame  departed, 

And  none  regards  it  now. 

But  ftill  Thy  love  befriends  us, 
Of  every  heart  the  guide; 

Unfailing  help  it  lends  us, 
Though  all  had  turn'd  afide. 


1 66  £j3va  (Barmamca. 

Oh !  fuch  love  foon  or  later 
Mull  conquer,  muft  be  felt, 

Then  at  Thy  feet  the  traitor 
In  bitter  tears  lhall  melt. 

Lord,  I  have  inly  found  Thee, 

Depart  Thou  not  from  me, 
But  wrap  Thy  love  around  me, 

And  keep  me  clofe  to  Thee. 
Once  too  my  brethren,  yonder 

Upgazing  where  Thou  art, 
Shall  learn  Thy  love  with  wonder, 

And  fink  upon  Thy  heart. 

Novalis. 

About  1795. 


£ma  ©ermantca.  l67 


NINETEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

But  ye  have  not  fo  learned  Chrift;  if  fo  be  thit  ye 
have  heard  Him,  and  have  been  taught  by  Him,  as 
the  truth  is  in  Jefus :  that  ye  put  off,  concerning  the 
former  conversation,  the  old  man,  which  is  corrupt 
according  to  the  deceitful  lulls;  and  be  renewed  in 
the  fpirit  of  your  mind;  and  that  ye  put  on  the  new 
man,  which  after  God  is  created  in  righteoufnefs  and 
true  holinefs. — From  the  Epistle. 

H  well  for  him  who  all  things  braves, 
A  foldier  of  the  Lord  to  be, 
Whom  vice  counts  not  among  her  flaves, 
From  envy,  pride  and  paffion  free ; 
Who  with  the  world  of  evil  wars, 
And  bows  his  will  beneath  God's  laws. 


Who  follows  Chrift  whate'er  betide, 
Is  worthy  of  a  foldier's  name ; 

Is  He  thy  Way,  thy  Light,  thy  Guide, 
'Tis  meet  thou  alfo  bear  His  fhame : 

Who  fhrinks  from  dark  Gethfemane, 

Shall  Tabor's  glories  never  fee. 

What  profits  it  that  Chrift  hath  deign'd 
To  wear  our  mortal  nature  thus, 

If  we  ourfelves  have  ne'er  attain'd 
That  God  reveal  Himfelf  in  us  ? 


168  iima  (Sfarmanica. 

The  pure  and  virgin  foul  alone 

He  choofeth  for  His  earthly  throne. 

What  profits  it  that  Chrift  is  born, 
And  bringeth  childhood  back  to  men, 

Unlefs  our  long-loft  right  we  mourn, 
And  win  through  penitence  again, 

And  lead  a  God-like  life  on  earth, 

As  children  of  the  fecond  birth? 

What  profits  all  that  Chrift  hath  taught, 
If  man  is  flave  to  reafon  ftill, 

And  worldly  wifdom,  honour,  thought, 
Rule  all  his  a6ls,  and  move  his  will? 

He  follows  what  his  Lord  doth  teach 

Who  true  denial  of  felf  would  reach. 

What  profit  us  His  deeds  and  life, 
His  meeknefs,  love  (o  quick  to  blefs, 

If  we  give  place  to  pride  and  ftrife, 
Dishonouring  thus  His  holinefs  ? 

What  profits  it,  if  for  reward, 

And  not  in  faith,  we  call  Him  Lord? 

What  profits  us  His  agony, 

If  we  endure  not  pain  and  fcorn  ? 

'Tis  combat  brings  forth  viclory, 
Of  forrow  fweeteft  joys  are  born; 

And  ne'er  to  him  Chrift's  crown  is  given, 

Who  hath  not  here  with  Adam  ftriven. 

What  profit  ye  His  death  and  crofs, 
Unlefs  to  felf  ye  alfo  die  ? 


Cum  ©ormamca.  l69 

Ye  love  your  life  to  find  it  lofs, 

Afraid  the  flefh  to  crucify. 
Wouldft  live  to  this  world  ftill?     Then  know, 
Chrift's  death  to  thee  is  barren  fhow. 

What  profit  that  he  loofed  and  broke 

All  bonds,  if  ye  in  league  remain 
With  earth  ?     Who  weareth  Satan's  yoke 

Shall  call  Him  Mailer  but  in  vain. 
Count  ye  the  foul  for  reconciled, 
Yet  flave  to  earth,  by  fm  defiled? 

What  profits  it  that  He  is  rifen, 
If  dead  in  fins  thou  yet  doft  lie?  J 

If  yet  thou  cleaveft  to  thy  prifon,     >      . 
What  profit  that  He  dwells  on  high? 

His  triumph  will  avail  thee  nought, 

If  thou  haft  ne'er  the  battle  fought. 

Then  live  and  fuffer,  do  and  bear, 
As  Chrift  thy  pattern  here  hath  done, 

And  feek  His  innocence  to  wear, 

That  He  may  count  thee  of  His  own. 

Who  loveth  Chrift  muft  live  at  war 

With  all  that  breaks  His  holy  law. 

Anon. 


170 


iljn-a  ©jermatma. 


TWENTIETH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Singing  and  making  melody  in  your  heart  unto  the 
Lord;  giving  thanks  always  for  all  things  unto  God 
and  the  Father,  in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jefus  Chrift. 
— From  the  Epistle. 

rf^%   H  would  I  had  a  thoufand  tongues, 

To  found  Thy  praife  o'er  land  and  fea ! 
Oh !  rich  and  fweet  mould  be  my  fongs, 
Of  all  my  God  has  done  for  me ! 
With  thankfulnefs  my  heart  muft  often  fwell, 
But  mortal  lips  Thy  praifes  faintly  tell. 

Oh  that  my  voice  could  far  refound 

Up  to  yon  ftars  that  o'er  me  mine ! 
Would  that  my  blood  for  joy  might  bound 
Through  every  vein,  while  life  is  mine! 
Would  that  each  pulfe  were  gratitude,  each  breath 
A  fong  to  Him  who  keeps  me  fafe  from  death ! 


O  all  ye  powers  of  foul  and  mind, 

Arife,  keep  filence  thus  no  more; 
Put  forth  your  ftrength,  and  ye  fhall  find 
Your  nobleft  work  is  to  adore. 
O  foul  and  body,  make  ye  pure  and  meet, 
With  heartfelt  praife  your  God  and  Lord  to  greet. 


iigra  ©ermamca.  l7l 

Ye  little  leaves  fo  frefh  and  green, 

That  dance  for  joy  in  fummer  air, 
Ye  flender  graffes,  bright  and  keen, 

Ye  flowers  fo  wondrous  fweet  and  fair; 
Ye  only  live  to  fhow  your  Maker's  fame, 
Help  me  his  loving-kindnefs  to  proclaim. 

O.  all  ye  living  things  that  throng 

With  breath  and  motion  earth  and  fkv, 
Be  ye  companions  in  my  fong, 

Help  me  to  raife  His  praifes  high; 
For  my  unaided  powers  are  far  too  weak 
The  glories  of  His  mighty  works  to  fpeak. 

And  firft,  O  Father,  praife  to  Thee 

For  all  I  am  and  all  I  have,   . 
It  was  Thy  merciful  decree 

That  all  thofe  blemngs  richly  gave, 
Which  o'er  the  earth  are  fcatter'd  far  and  near, 
To  help  and  gladden  us  who  fojourn  here. 

And,  deareft  Jefus,  bleft  be  Thou, 

Whofe  heart  with  pity  overflows, 
Thou  rich  in  help !  who  deign'dft  to  bow 
To  earth,  and  tafte  her  keeneft  woes; 
Thy  death  has  burit.  my  bonds  and  fet  me  free, 
Has  made  me  Thine ;  henceforth  I  cling  to  Thee. 

Nor  lefs  to  Thee,  O  Holy  Ghoft, 

Be  everlafting  honours  paid, 
For  all  Thy  comfort,  Lord,  and  mod 

That  I  a  child  of  life  am  made 


x72  £gra  (fcmamca. 

By  Thy  deep  lore;  my  good  deeds  are  not  mine, 
Thou  workeft  them  through  me,  O  light  Divine. 

Yes,  Lord,  through  all  my  changing  days, 

With  each  new  fcene  afrelh  I  mark 

How  wondroufly  Thou  guid'ft  my  ways, 

Where  all  feems  troubled,  wilder'd,  dark; 

When  dangers  thicken  fail,  and  hopes  depart, 

Thy  light  beams  comfort  on  my  Unking  heart. 

Shall  I  not  then  be  filPd  with  joy, 

Shall  I  not  praife  Thee  evermore? 
Triumphant  fongs  my  lips  employ, 
E'en  when  my  cup  of  woe  runs  o'er. 
Nay,  though  the  heavens  fhould  vanifh  as  a  fcroll, 
Nothing  fhall  fhake  or  daunt  my  trailing  foul. 

But  of  Thy  goodnefs  will  I  ling 

As  long  as  I  have  life  and  breath, 
Offerings  of  thanks  I  daily  bring 
Until  my  heart  is  ilill  in  death; 
And  when  at  laft  my  lips  grow  pale  and  cold, 
Yet  in  my  fighs  Thy  praifes  fhall  be  told. 

Father,  do  Thou  in  mercy  deign 

To  liften  to  my  early  lays; 
Once  fhall  I  learn  a  nobler  flrain, 

Where  angels  ever  hymn  Thy  praife, 
There  in  the  radiant  choir  I  too  fhall  fmg 
Loud  hallelujahs  to  my  glorious  King. 

Mentzer.      i  704. 


£m*ct  ©ttmamca.  173 


TWENTY-FIRST  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Be  ftrong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  of  His  might. 
Put  on  the  whole  armour  of  God,  that  ye  may  be 
able  to  ftand  againft  the  wiles  of  the  devil.  For  we 
wreftle  not  againft  flefh  and  blood,  but  againft  princi- 
palities, againft  powers,  againft  the  rulers  of  the  dark- 
nefs  of  this  world,  againft  fpiritual  wickednefs  in  high 
places. — From  the  Epistle. 

OD  is  our  ftronghold  firm  and  fure, 
Our  trufty  fhield  and  weapon, 
He  mail  deliver  us,  whate'er 

Of  ill  to  us  may  happen. 
Our  ancient  Enemy 
In  earneft  now  is  he, 
Much  craft  and  great  might 
Arm  him  for  the  fight, 
On  earth  is  not  his  fellow. 

Our  might  is  nought  but  weaknefs,  foon 

Should  we  the  battle  lofe, 
But  for  us  fights  the  rightful  Man, 
Whom  God  Himfelf  doth  choofe. 
Afkeft  thou  His  name? 
'Tis  Jefus  Chrift,  the  fame 
Whom  Lord  of  Hofts  we  call, 
God  only  over  all; 
None  from  the  field  can  drive  Him. 


J74  Cgra  ®n*mamca. 

What  though  the  world  were  full  of  fiends, 

That  would  us  iheer  devour ! 
We  know  we  yet  fhall  win  the  day, 
We  fear  not  all  their  power. 
The  Prince  of  this  world  (till 
May  ftruggle  as  he  will, 
He  nothing  can  prevail, 
A  word  fhall  make  him  quail, 
For  he  is  judged  of  Heaven. 

The  word  of  God  they  fhall  not  touch, 

Yet  have  no  thanks  therefor, 
God  by  His  Spirit  and  His  gifts, 
Is  with  us  in  the  war. 

Then  let  them  take  our  life, 
Goods,  honour,  children,  wife, 
Though  nought  of  thefe  we  fave, 
Small  profit  fhall  they  have, 
The  kingdom  ours  abideth! 

Luther.      1530. 


Ctjra  ©crmamca.  175 


TWENTY-SECOND  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Trust  in  the  Lord  with  all  thine  heart,  and  lean  not 
unto  thine  own  underftanding. — From  the  Lesson. 

OW  bleft  to  all  Thy  followers,  Lord,  the 
road 
By  which  Thou  lead'ft  them  on,  yet 
oft  how  ftrange ! 
But  Thou  in  all  dofl  feek  our  highell  good, 
For  truth  were  true  no  longer,  couldft  Thou 
change. 
Though  crooked  feem  the  paths,  yet  are  they  ftraight, 
By  which  Thou  draw'fl  Thy  children  up  to  Thee, 
And  palling  wonders  by  the  way  they  fee, 
And  learn  at  laft  to  own  Thee  wife  and  great. 

No  human  laws  can  bind  Thy  Spirit,  Lord, 

That  reafon  or  opinion  frame  for  us ; 
The  knot  of  doubt  is  fever'd  by  Thy  fword, 

Or  falls  unravell'd  if  Thou  willeft  thus. 
The  ftrongeft  bonds  are  weak  to  Thee,  O  God, 

All  finks  and  fails  that  would  Thy  courfe  oppofe; 

Thy  lighter!:  word  can  quell  Thy  ftouteft  foes, 
And  defert  paths  are  by  Thy  footfteps  trod. 


*76  £$va  ©ermanica. 

What  human  prudence  fondly  ftrives  to  bind, 
Thy  wifdom  funders  far  as  eaft  from  weft; 

We  long  beneath  the  yoke  of  man  have  pined, 
Thy  hand  exalteth  high  above  the  reft. 

The  world  would  fcatter,  Thou  doft  union  give; 
She  breaks,  Thou  buildeft ;  what  fhe  builds  is  made 
A  ruin'd  heap;  her  light  is  nought  but  lhade; 

Her  dead  Thy  Spirit  calls  to  rife  and  live. 

Is  there  an  a£t  our  reafon  would  applaud  ? 

Lo  in  Thy  book  haft  Thou  the  example  given; 
But  him  whom  none  as  wife  and  pious  laud, 

Thou  often  lead'ft  in  fecret  up  to  Heaven, 
As  Thou  didft  leave  the  Pharifee,  to  go 

And  eat  with  linners  whom  all  elfe  forfook. 

Who  can  fearch  out  Thy  purpofes,  or  look 
Into  th'  abyfs  of  wifdom  whence  they  flow  ? 

Our  all,  O  God,  is  nothing  in  Thine  eyes, 
Our  nothing  Thou  regardeft  oft  with  love; 

Glory  and  pomp  of  words  Thou  doft  not  prize, 
Thy  impulfe  only  gives  them  power  to  move. 

Thy  nobleft  works  awaken  not  man's  praife, 
For  they  are  hidden,  and  he  blindly  turns 
Away,  nor  though  he  fee,  their  light  difcerns, 

Too  grofs  his  fenfe,  too  keen  their  dazzling  rays. 

O  Ruler!  We  would  blefs  Thee  and  adore, 
At  whofe  command  we  live  or  turn  to  duft ; 

When  Thou  doft  give  us  of  Thy  wifdom's  ftore, 
We  fee  how  true  Thy  care,  and  learn  to  truft. 


£ma  ©n*mcuuca.  177 

Thy  wifdom  plays  with  us  as  with  a  child, 
Who  playing  learns  his  Father  loves  him  well; 
'Tis  love  that  brings  Thee  down  with  man  to 
dwell, 

Love  guides  our  faltering  footfleps  through  the  wild. 

Now  feems  to  us  o'er  harm  and  Uriel:  Thy  fchool, 
Now  doft  Thou  greet  us  mild  and  tenderly, 

Now  when  our  wilder  paffions  break  Thy  rule, 
Thy  judgments  fright  us  back  again  to  Thee. 

With  downcaft  eyes  we  feek  Thy  face  again, 
Thou  kiffeft  us,  we  promife  fair  amends, 
Once  more  Thy  Spirit  reft  and  pardon  fends, 

And  curbs  our  paffions  with  a  ftronger  rein. 

Thou  know'ft,  O  Father,  all  our  weaknefs  well, 

Our  impotence,  our  foolifhnefs  of  mind; 
Almoft  a  paffing  glance  may  ferve  to  tell 

How  weak  are  we,  how  ignorant,  how  blind. 
Wherefore  Thou  comeft  with  Thy  help  and  flay, 

A  father's  rule,  a  mother's  love  are  Thine; 

The  lamb,  on  whom  none  elfe  difcern  Thy  fign, 
Thou  carrieft  in  Thy  bofom  day  by  day. 

The  common  ways  are  trodden  not  of  Thee, 

Seldom  Thy  fteps  are  traced  by  mortal  eyes, 
Yet  art  Thou  near  us,  and  unfeen,  doft  fee 

All  hopes  and  wifhes  that  within  us  rife. 
The  bright  reflexion  of  Thy  inner  thought 

Is  day  by  day  before  our  eyes  outipread; 

Who  thinks  he  quickeft  hath  Thy  meaning  read, 
Is  oft  another  deeper  leflbn  taught. 
9* 


*78  Cgm  ©ronanica. 

O  Eye,  whofe  glance  no  falfehood  can  endure, 
Grant  me  to  wifely  judge,  and  well  difcern, 

Nature  from  grace — Thy  Light  ferene  and  pure 
From  grofTer  fires  that  in  and  round  me  burn. 

Let  no  ftrange  fire  be  kindled  on  the  fhrine 
Within  my  heart  left  I  mould  madly  bring 
The  hated  offering  unto  Thee,  O  King. 

Ah,  bleft  the  foul  whofe  light  is  born  of  Thine ! 

When  reafon  contradicls  Thy  law,  or  climbs 
So  high,  fhe  weeneth  to  know  more  than  Thou, 

Break  down  her  confidence,  great  God,  betimes, 
And  teach  her  lowly  at  Thy  feet  to  bow. 

Nor  let  my  proud  heart  dictate,  Lord,  to  Thee, 
But  tame  the  wayward  will  that  feeks  its  own, 
And  wake  the  love  that  clings  to  Thee  alone, 

And  takes  Thy  judgments  in  humility. 

Abforb  my  will  in  Thine;  fupport  and  bear 
Onward  in  loving  arms  Thy  timid  child, 

Thy  Spirit's  voice  difpels  all  doubt,  all  fear, 
And  quells  the  paflions  erft  fo  fierce  and  wild. 

Thou  art  mine,  All,  fmce  that  Thy  Son  is  mine ; 
Oh  let  Thy  Spirit  work  with  power  in  me, 
With  ftrong  defire  I  thirft,  I  pant  for  Thee, 

Oh  joy  whene'er  Thy  glories  round  me  fhhine! 

So  fhall  the  creature  ever  ferve  me  here, 
Nor  angels  blufh  to  bear  me  company; 

The  perfect  fplrits  to  Thy  throne  moil  near, 
They  are  my  brethren,  waiting  there  for  me ; 


Cgra  ©mnantca.  l79 

And  oft  my  fpirit  joys  to  meet  a  heart, 
That  loveth  Thee  and  me  and  every  faint. 
Is  aught  then  left  can  make  me  fad  and  faint? 

Come,  Fount  of  Joy !  vain  forrows,  all  depart ! 

Gottfried  Arnold.      1666-17 14. 


i8o  £gra  (&txmanka. 


TWENTY-THIRD  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

For  our  converfation  is  in  heaven;  from  whence  alfo 
we  look  for  the  Saviour,  the  Lord  Jefus  Chrift;  who 
mail  change  our  vile  body,  that  it  may  be  fafhioned 
like  unto  His  glorious  body,  according  to  the  working 
whereby  He  is  able  even  to  fubdue  all  things  unto 
Himfelf. — From  the  Epistle. 

^ET  who  will  in  thee  rejoice, 

O  thou  fair  and  wondrous  earth! 
Ever  anguiih'd  forrow's  voice 
Pierces  through  thy  feeming  mirth; 
Let  thy  vain  delights  be  given 
Unto  them  who  love  not  Heaven, 
My  defire  is  nx'd  on  Thee, 
Jefus,  deareft  far  to  me ! 

Weary  fouls  with  toil  outworn, 

Drooping  'neath  the  long  hot  light, 

Wi(h  that  foon  the  coming  morn 
Might  be  quenched  again  in  night, 

That  their  toils  might  find  a  clofe 

In  a  foft  and  deep  repofe ; 

I  but  wifh  to  reft  in  Thee, 

Jefus,  deareft  far  to  me  ! 

Others  dare  the  treacherous  wave 
Hidden  rock  and  fhifting  wind, — 


jEgra  (Sarmamca.  «8i 

Storm  and  danger  let  them  brave, 
Earthly  good  or  wealth  to  find; 
Faith  fhall  wing  my  upward  flight 
Far  above  yon  ftarry  height, 
Till  I  find  myfelf  with  Thee, 
Jefus,  deareft  Friend  to  me ! 

Many  a  time  ere  now  I  faid, 

Many  a  time  again  fhall  fay, 
Would  to  God  that  I  were  dead, 

Would  that  in  my  grave  I  lay ! 
Reft  were  mine,  and  fweet  my  lot 
Where  the  body  hindereth  not, 
And  the  foul  can  ever  be, 
Jefus,  deareft  Lord,  with  Thee ! 

Come,  O  Death,  thou  twin  of  Sleep, 
Lead  me  hence,  I  pray  thee  come, 

Loofe  my  rudder,  through  the  deep 
Guide  my  veflel  fafely  home. 

Thy  approach  who  will  may  fly, 

'Twere  a  joy  to  me  to  die, 

For  death  opes  the  gates  to  Thee, 

Jefus,  deareft  Friend  to  me ! 

Would  that  I  to-day  might  leave 

This  my  earthly  prifon  here, 
And  my  crown  of  joy  receive 

Waiting  me  in  yon  bright  fphere  ! 
In  that  home  of  joy,  where  dwell 
Hofts  of  angels,  would  I  tell 
How  the  Godhead  ftiines  in  Thee, 
Jefus,  deareft  Lord  to  me! 


« 82  £grct  ©mnamca. 

But  not  yet  the  gates  of  gold 

I  may  fee  nor  enter  in, 
Nor  the  heavenly  fields  behold, 

But  muft  fit  and  mourning  fpin 
Life's  dark  thread  on  earth  below ; 
Let  my  thoughts  then  hourly  go 
Whither  I  myfelf  would  be, 
.  Jefus,  deareft  Lord,  with  Thee ! 

J.  Franck.     1653. 


$$xa  ©armantca.  183 

TWENTY-FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Jesus  anfwered  and  faid  unto  her,  Martha,  Martha, 
thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things :  but 
one  thing  is  needful,  and  Mary  hath  chofen  that  good 
part  which  mall  not  be  taken  away  from  her. — Luke 
x.  41,  42. 

NE  thing  is  needful !  Let  me  deem 
Aright  of  that  whereof  He  fpoke ; 
All  elfe,  how  fweet  foe'er  it  feem, 
Is  but  in  truth  a  heavy  yoke, 
'Neath  which  the  toiling  fpirit  frets  and  pants, 
Yet  never  finds  the  happinefs  it  wants : 
This  One  can  make  amends  whate'er  I  mifs, 
Who  hath  it  finds  in  all  his  joy  through  this ! 

My  foul,  wouldft  thou  this  one  thing  find  ? 

Seek  not  amid  created  things; 
Leave  what  is  earthly  far  behind, 

O'er  Nature  heavenward  ftretch  thy  wings, 
Where  God  and  man  are  One,  in  whom  appear 
All  truth  and  fulnefs,  thou  haft  found  it  here, — 
The  better  part,  the  One  thing  needful  He, 
My  One,  my  All,  my  Joy,  who  faveth  me. 

'l/Xg-'h-*,^  Mary  once  devoutly  fought 

The  Eternal  truth,  the  better  part, 
g  ^«d  fat,  enwrapt  in  holy  thought, 
At  Jefu's  feet  with  burning  heart,  * 


I 


-~    j 


- 


1 


l84  Cjjra  ©mnanica. 

For  nought  elfe  caring,  yearning  for  the  word 
That  fhould  be  fpoken  by  her  Friend,  her  Lord, 
Lofing  her  All  in  Him,  His  word  believing, 
And  through  the  One  all  things  again  receiving: 

Even  fo  is  all  my  heart's  defire 

Fix'd,  deareft  Lord,  on  Thee  alone; 
Oh  make  me  true  and  draw  me  nigher} 
And  make  Thyfelf,  O  Chrift,  my  own. 
Though  many  turn  afide  to  join  the  crowd, 
To  follow  Thee  in  love  my  heart  is  vow'd, 
Thy  word  is  life  and  fpirit,  whither  go  ? 
What  joy  is  there  in  Thee  we  cannot  know? 

All  perfect  wifdom  lies  in  Thee 

As  in  its  primal  hidden  fource ; 
Oh  let  my  will  fubmimve  be, 

And  hold  henceforth  its  even  courfe, 
Controll'd  by  truth  and  meeknefs,  for  high  Heaven 
To  lowly  fimple  hearts  hath  wifdom  given  j 
Who  knoweth  Chrift  aright,  and  in  Him  lives, 
Hath  won  the  higheft  prize  that  wifdom  gives. 

Oh  that  my  foul  from  fleep  might  wake, 

And  ever,  Lord,  Thine  image  bear ! 
Thee  for  my  portion  I  will  take, 
Thy  holinefs  Thou  bidd'ft  us  fhare, 
Whate'er  we  need  for  God-like  walk  and  life 
Is  given  to  us  in  Thee ;  oh  end  this  ftrife, 
And  free  me  from  the  love  of  paffing  things, 
To  know  alone  the  life  from  Thee  that  fprings! 


/z ; 


-*■';  &^j/  /       t 


f 


Cgra  ©mncmica.  185 

What  can  I  afk  for  more?  Behold 

Thy  mercy  is  a  very  flood ; 
I  know  that  Thou  hall  pafs'd  of  old 
Into  the  Holieft  through  Thy  blood, 
And  there  redeem'd  for  ever  thofe  who  lay 
Beneath  the  rule  of  Satan;  now  are  they 
Made  free  by  Thee,  who  erft  were  flaves  and  weak, 
And  childlike  hearts  the  name  of  Father  fpeak. 

Deep  joy  and  peace  and  holy  calm 
Fill  my  once  refllefs  fpirit  now; 
O'er  verdant  paftures  free  from  harm, 
She  follows  Thee,  her  fhepherd  Thou; 
Whate'er  rejoices  or  confoles  us  here, 
Is  not  fo  fweet  as  feeling  Thou  art  near; 
This  One  is  needful,  but  all  elfe  is  drofs, 
Let  me  win  Chrilt,  all  other  gain  is  lofs. 

Schroder.     1697. 


1 86  £yxa  ©ormamta. 


TWENTY-FIFTH   SUNDAY  AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Behold  the  days  come,  faith  the  Lord,  that  I  will  raife 
unto  David  a  righteous  Branch,  and  a  King  fhall  reign, 
and  profper,  and  fhall  execute  judgment  and  juftice  in 
the  earth. — From  the  Passage  for  the  Epistle. 


EDEEMER  of  the  nations,  come ! 
Ranfom  of  earth,  here  make  Thy  home ! 
Bright  Sun,  oh  dart  Thy  flame  to  earth, 
For  fo  fhall  God  in  Chrift  have  birth! 


Thou  comeft  from  Thy  kingly  throne, 
O  Son  of  God,  the  Virgin's  Son ! 
Thou  Hero  of  a  two-fold  race, 
Walkeft  in  might  earth's  darkeft  place. 

Thou  ftoopeft  once  to  fuffer  here, 
And  rifeft  o'er  the  Harry  fphere; 
Hell's  gates  at  Thy  defcent  were  riven, 
Thy  afcent  is  to  higheft  Heaven. 

One  with  the  Father !  Prince  of  might ! 
O'er  nature's  realm  affert  Thy  right, 
Our  fickly  bodies  pine  to  know 
Thy  heavenly  ftrength,  Thy  living  glow. 


Ctira  ©ermamca.  ^7 

How  bright  Thy  lowly  manger  beams ! 
Down  earth's  dark  vale  its  glory  ftreams, 
The  fplendour  of  Thy  natal  night 
Shines  through  all  Time  in  deathlefs  light. 

J.  Franck. 
After  St.  Ambrofe. 


1 88  £grct  ©ermctnica. 


ST.  ANDREW'S  DAY. 

And  Jefus  faith  unto  them,  Follow  me.  .  .  And  they 
ftraightway  left  their  nets,  and  followed  Him. — From 
the  Gospel. 

OLLO W  me,  in  me  ye  live, 
What  ye  afk  I  freely  give, 
Only  heed  ye  left  ye  ftray, 
Follow  me  the  Living  Way; 

Follow  me  with  all  your  hearts, 

I  will  ward  off  forrow's  darts, 

Learn  from  Chrift  your  Lord  to  be 

Rich  in  meek  humility. 

Yea,  Lord,  meet  it  is  indeed 
We  mould  all  Thy  bidding  heed; 
Who  in  fear  of  this  world's  blame, 
Counts  Thy  lowly  yoke  a  fhame, 
To  Thy  name,  Lord,  hath  no  right, 
Is  no  Chriftian  in  Thy  light. 
Ah  too  well  I  know  that  we, 
Here  on  earth,  mould  follow  Thee. 

Where  is  ftrength,  Lord,  to  fulfil, 
Glad  at  heart,  Thy  works  and  will, 
Following  on  where  Thou  haft  trod? 
All  too  weak  am  I,  O  God; 


£$va  ©t-rmamca.  l89 

If  awhile  Thy  paths  I  keep, 
Soon  I  pine  for  reft  and  fleep ; 
E'en  to  love  Thee,  Lord,  aright, 
Paffeth  far  my  feeble  might. 

Yet  I  will  not  turn  from  Thee, 
Yet  my  joy  in  Chrift  mail  be ; 
Help  me,  make  me  ftrong  and  bold, 
Firm  and  fair.  Thy  grace  to  hold. 
This  world  and  her  lulls  I  leave, 
Only  to  my  Lord  I  cleave; 
All  their  promifes  are  lies, 
But  who  follows  Thee  is  wife. 

Thou  haft  gone  before  us,  Lord, 
Not  with  anger,  ftrife,  or  fword, 
Not  with  kingly  pomp  and  pride ; 
But  with  mercy  at  Thy  fide. 
Moved  by  wondrous  love  divine 
For  our  life  Thou  gaveft  Thine, 
And  Thy  precious  outpour'd  blood, 
Won  for  us  the  higheft  good. 

Let  us  follow  in  fuch  fort, 
Chrift-like  every  deed  and  thought, 
That  Thy  love  moft  true  and  kind 
Henceforth  all  our  hearts  may  bind; 
None  may  look  behind  him  now, 
Who  to  Chrift  hath  pledged  his  vow; 
Chrift  doth  lead,  no  longer  ftand, 
Follow  me,  is  His  command. 


[9°  £ma  (Btxmamca. 

Draw  me  up,  my  God,  from  hence, 
Raife  me  high  o'er  earth  and  fenfe, 
That  I  lofe  not  Thee  from  fight, 
Nor  in  life  nor  death,  my  Light! 
In  my  foul's  moil  deep  recefs 
Let  me  cheriih  holinefs, 
Not  for  fhow  or  human  praife, 
But  for  Thy  fake,  all  my  days. 

Grant  me,  Lord,  my  heart's  defire, 
So  my  courfe  to  run  nor  tire, 
That  my  praclifed  foul  may  prove 
What  Thy  meeknefs,  what  Thy  love. 
Grant  me  here  to  truft  Thy  grace, 
There  with  joy  to  fee  Thy  face, 
This  in  time  my  portion  be, 
That  through  all  eternity! 

Rist.     1 644. 


£m*a  (Bnrmamca.  l9l 


ST.  THOMAS  THE  APOSTLE. 

And  Thomas  anfwered  and  faid  unto  Him,  My  Lord 
and  my  God.  Jefus  faith  unto  him,  Thomas,  becaufe 
thou  haft  feen  me  thou  haft  believed ;  bleffed  are  they 
that  have  not  feen,  and  yet  have  believed. — From 
the  Gospel. 

ONG  in  the  fpirit-world  my  foul  had 
fought 
Some  friendly  being,  clofe  to  her  akin; 
Long  had  prepared  a  dwelling  in  her 
thought 
And  heart  for  fuch  an  one;  for  fhe  could  win 
Through  Him  alone  her  ftrength,  for  Him  fhe  yearn'd, 
Toward  Him  her  fervent  longing  ever  burn'd. 

And  rich  the  world  in  things  invifible, 

In  heathen  gods,  and  fpirits  great  and  fmall, 

And  bright  and  dark;  yet  ever  did  fhe  dwell 
Alone,  for  One  was  wanting  'mid  them  all ; 

One  having  might  and  glory,  rich  in  love, 

God,  who  as  man  could  fhame  and  weaknefs  prove. 

Then  came  the  Word,  and  took  on  Him  our  flefh, 
And  dwelt  with  men,  here  in  the  world  of  fight, 

And  made  an  end  of  ftrife,  and  link'd  afrefh 
Our  finful  earth  unto  the  throne  of  light. 

Into  His  ancient  glory  He  is  gone, 

And  yet  He  dwells  with  us  till  time  be  done. 


l92  £gra  ©mnanica. 

Thus,  O  my  foul,  haft  thou  received  thy  will; 

The  glory  of  the  world  of  ghofts  is  dim 
Before  the  One,  who  is,  and  was,  and  ftill 

Shall  ever  be;  all  hearts  are  fix'd  on  Him, 
And  fpirit  worlds,  fmce  He  is  there,  become 
Hallow'd  and  fafe  to  thee,  thy  proper  home. 

Thou  foareft  now  through  all  their  heights  fublime, 

And  not  as  once  doth  empty  back  return, 
But  gazing  on  thy  God,  forgetteft  time 

Beneath  His  loving  glance,  whence  thou  wouldft 
learn 
How  thou  fhouldft  love,  and  know  His  Word  aright 
Ah  bleft  the  love  and  faith  that  afk  not  fight! 

Albertini.      i  821. 


£ma  ®n*mamca.  193 


PRESENTATION  IN  THE  TEMPLE. 

Lord,  now  letteft  Thou  Thy  fervant  depart  in  peace, 
according  to  Thy  word ;  for  mine  eyes  have  feen  Thy 
falvation. — From  the  Gospel. 

JGHT  of  the  Gentile  world  ! 
Thy  people's  joy  and  love ! 
Drawn  by  Thy  Spirit  we  are  come 
Thy  prefence,  Lord,  to  prove. 
Within  Thy  temple  walls 
We  wait  with  earneft  mind, 
As  Simeon  waited  long  of  old 
His  Saviour  God  to  find. 

Thou  wilt  be  found  of  us, 

O  Lord,  in  every  place, 
Where  Thou  haft  promifed  faithfully 

We  mould  behold  Thy  face. 

Thou  yet  doft  fufFer  us 

Who  oft  are  gather'd  here, 
To  bear  Thee  in  the  arms  of  faith 

As  once  that  aged  feer. 

Be  Thou  our  blifs,  our  light, 
Shining  'mid  pain  and  lofs, 
Qur  Sun  of  ftrength  in  time  of  fear, 
The  glory  round  our  crofs ; 
10 


1 94  £$xa  (Smncmkct. 

A  glow  in  finking  hearts, 
A  funbeam  in  diftrefs, 
Phyfician,  nurfe,  in  ficknefs'  hours, 
In  death  our  happinefs! 

Oh  let  us,  Lord,  prevail 

With  Simeon  at  the  laft ; 
May  we  take  up  his  dying  fong 

When  life  is  waning  fail ! 

"Let  me  depart  in  peace, 

Since  that  mine  aged  eyes 
Have  feen  the  Saviour  here  on  earth, 

Have  feen  His  glory  rife." 

Yes,  with  the  eye  of  faith 

My  Jefus  I  behold ; 
No  foe  can  rob  me  of  my  Lord, 

Though  fierce  his  threats  and  bold. 

I  dwell  within  Thy  heart, 

Thou  doll  in  mine  abide, 
Not  forrow,  pain  nor  death  itfelf, 

Can  tear  me  from  Thy  fide. 

J.  Franck.      1653. 


£gra  ©tt-manua.  '95 


ST.  MATTHIAS'  DAY. 

Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden^ 
and  I  will  give  you  reft. — From  the  Gospel. 

ES,  there  remaineth  yet  a  reft ! 
Arife,  fad  heart,  that  darkly  pines, 
By  heavy  care  and  pain  oppreft, 
On  whom  no  fun  of  gladnefs  fhines ; 
Look  to  the  Lamb !  in  yon  bright  fields 
Thou'lt  know  the  joy  His  prefence  yields; 
Caft  off  thy  load  and  thither  hafte; 

Soon  malt  thou  fight  and  bleed  no  more, 
Soon,  foon  thy  weary  courfe  be  o'er, 
And  deep  the  reft  thou  then  malt  tafte. 

The  reft  appointed  thee  of  God, 

The  reft  that  nought  mail  break  or  move, 
That  ere  this  earth  by  man  was  trod 

Was  fet  apart  for  thee  by  Love. 
Our  Saviour  gave  His  life  to  win 
This  reft  for  thee ;  oh  enter  in ! 

Hear  how  His  voice  founds  far  and  wide, 

Ye  weary  fouls,  no  more  delay, 

Loiter  not  faithlefs  by  the  way, 
Here  in  my  peace  and  reft  abide! 

Ye  heavy-laden,  come  to  Him! 

Ye  who  are  bent  with  many  a  load, 
Come  from  your  prifons  drear  and  dim, 

Toil  not.  thus  fadly  of  your  road! 


*96  Cgra  ®armamca. 

Ye've  borne  the  burden  of  the  day, 
And  hear  ye  not  your  Saviour  fay, 
I  am  your  refuge  and  your  reft? 
His  children  ye,  of  heavenly  birth, 
Howe'er  may  rage  fin,  hell,  or  earth, 
Here  are  ye  fafe,  here  calmly  bleft. 

Yonder  in  joy  the  fheaves  we  bring, 

Whofe  feed  was  fown  on  earth  in  tears; 

There  in  our  Father's  houfe  we  fing 
The  fong  too  fweet  for  mortal  ears. 
Sorrow  and  fighing  all  are  paft, 
And  pain  and  death  are  fled  at  laft, 

There  with  the  Lamb  of  God  we  dwell, 
He  leads  us  to  the  cryftal  river, 
He  wipes  away  all  tears  for  ever; 

What  there  is  ours  no  tongue  can  tell. 

Hunger  nor  thirft  can  pain  us  there, 
The  time  of  recompenfe  is  come, 

Nor  cold  nor  fcorching  heat  we  bear, 
Safe  ftielter'd  in  our  Saviour's  home. 
The  Lamb  is  in  the  midft;  and  thofe 
Who  follow'd  Him  through  fhame  and  woes, 

Are  crown'd  with  honour,  joy  and  peace. 
The  dry  bones  gather  life  again, 
One  Sabbath  over  all  mall  reign, 

Wherein  all  toil  and  labour  ceafe. 

There  is  untroubled  calm  and  light, 
No  gnawing  care  fnall  mar  our  reft; 

Ye  weary,  heed  this  word  aright, 

Come,  lean  upon  your  Saviour'?  breaft. 


Cgvct  ©mncmkct.  '97 


Fain  would  I  linger  here  no  more, 
Fain  to  yon  happier  world  upfoar, 
And  join  that  bright  expectant  band. 
Oh  raife,  my  foul,  the  joyful  fong 
That  rings  through  yon  triumphant  throng; 
Thy  perfect  reft  is  nigh  at  hand. 

Kunth.      1733. 


*98  &£va  (Bmnanka, 


THE  ANNUNCIATION. 

Behold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord;  be  it  unto  me 
according  to  Thy  word. — From  the  Gospel. 

EA,  my  fpirit  fain  would  fmk 

In  Thy  heart  and  hands,  my  God, 
Waiting  till  Thou  fhow  the  end 
Of  the  ways  that  Thou  haft  trodj 
Stripp'd  of  felf,  how  calm  her  reft 
On  her  loving  Father's  breaft! 

And  my  foul  repineth  not, 

Well  content  whate'er  befall; 
Murmurs,  wifties,  of  felf- will, 

They  are  flain  and  vanquifh'd  all, 
Reftlefs  thoughts,  that  fret  and  crave, 
Slumber  in  her  Saviour's  grave. 

And  mv  foul  is  free  from  care, 

For  her  thoughts  from  all  things  ceafe 

That  can  pierce  like  fharpeft  thorns, 
Wounding  fore  the  inner  peace. 

He  who  made  her  careth  well, 

She  but  feeks  in  peace  to  dwell. 

And  my  foul  defpaireth  not, 

Loving  God  amid  her  woe ; 
Grief  that  wrings  and  breaks  the  heart 

Only  they  who  hate  Him  know: 


fiQva  (Bnmantca.  *99 

They  who  love  Him  Hill  poflefs 
Comfort  in  their  worft  diftrefs. 

And  my  foul  compkineth  not, 

For  me  knows  not  pain  or  fear, 
Clinging  to  her  God  in  faith, 

Trailing  though  He  flay  her  here. 
'Tis  when  flefh  and  blood  repine, 
Sun  of  joy,  Thou  canft  not  fhine. 

Thus  my  foul  before  her  God 

Lieth  ftill,  nor  fpeaketh  more, 
Conqueror  thus  o'er  pain  and  wrong, 

That  once  fmote  her  to  the  core; 
Like  a  filent  ocean,  bright 
With  her  God's  great  praife  and  light. 

Winkler.      171 3. 


2oo  £gm  (g^rntanica. 


ST.  BARNABAS'  DAY. 

We  preach  unto  you  that  ye  fhould  turn  from  thefe 
vanities  unto  the  Living  God  which  made  heaven,  and 
earth,  and  the  fea,  and  all  things  that  are  therein :  who 
in  time  pail  fuffered  all  nations  to  walk  in  their  own 
ways.  Neverthelefs  He  left  not  Himfelf  without  wit- 
ness, in  that  He  did  good,  and  gave  us  rain  from 
heaven,  and  fruitful  feafons,  filling  our  hearts  with 
food  and  gladnefs. — From  the  Lesson. 

HALL  I  not  fmg  praife  to  Thee, 
Shall  I  not  give  thanks,  O  Lord? 
Since  in  every  thing  I  fee 
How  Thy  love  keeps  watch  and  ward 
O'er  us,  how  the  trueft  love 
Ever  fills  Thy  heart,  my  God, 
Bearing,  cheering,  on  their  road, 
All  who  in  Thy  fervice  move. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

As  the  eagle  o'er  her  neft 

Spreads  her  fheltering  wings  abroad, 

So  from  all  that  would  moleft, 

Doth  Thine  arm  defend  me,  Lord; 

From  my  youth  up  e'en  till  now, 
Of  the  being  Thou  didft  give, 


£gva  ©armamca.  2Q1 

And  the  life  that  ftill  I  live, 
Faithful  Guardian  Hill  wert  Thou. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

Nay  He  kept  not  back  His  Son, 
But  hath  given  Him  for  our  good, 

And  our  fafety  He  hath  won 
By  the  fhedding  of  His  blood. 

O  Thou  fathomlefs  abyfs! 

My  weak  powers  but  ftrive  in  vain, 
Knowledge  of  Thy  depths  to  gain, 

Man  knows  not  fuch  love  as  this. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

And  His  Spirit,  bleffed  Guide, 

In  His  holy  Word  doth  teach, 
How  on  earth  we  may  abide, 

So  that  heaven  at  laft  we  reach; 
Every  longing  heart  doth  fill 

With  the  pure  true  light  of  faith, 

That  can  break  the  bonds  of  death, 
And  control  the  powers  of  ill. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

Truly  hath  he  cared  indeed 

For  my  foul's  health,  and  no  lefs 

If  my  body  fufFer  need, 

Will  He  help  in  my  diftrefs. 

When  my  ftrength  and  courage  fail, 

When  mv  powers  can  do  no  more, 
10* 


202  £gra  (Bmnanica. 

Doth  my  God  fuch  ftrength  outpour, 
That  I  rife  up  and  prevail. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

All  the  hofts  of  heaven  and  earth, 
Hath  He  placed  at  my  command, 

Nowhere  is  there  lack  or  dearth, 
But  I  find  in  fea  and  land 

All  things  order'd  for  my  wants, 
Living  things  in  fields  and  woods, 
On  the  heights  or  in  the  floods, 

And  the  earth  brings  forth  her  plants. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

When  I  fleep  my  Guardian  wakes, 
And  revives  my  wearied  mind; 

Every  morning  on  me  breaks 

With  fome  mark  of  love  mofl  kind ; 

Had  my  God  not  flood  my  Friend, 
Had  His  countenance  not  been 
Here  my  guide,  I  had  not  feen 

Many  a  trial  reach  its  end. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

Often  hath  my  crafty  Foe 

Threaten'd  to  bring  down  on  me 

Many  a  fore  and  heavy  woe, 

From  which  yet  my  life  is  free ; 

For  the  angel  whom  God  fends, 
Wards  off  every  threaten'd  hurt, 


flma  (Sermcmica.  203 

Every  evil  doth  avert 
That  mine  Enemy  intends. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

As  a  father  ne'er  withdraws 

From  a  child  His  all  of  love, 
Though  it  often  break  his  laws, 

Though  it  carelefs,  wilful,  prove : 
Even  fo  my  loving  Lord 

Doth  my  faults  with  pity  fee, 

With  His  rod  He  chafteneth  me, 
Not  avenging  with  His  fword. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  tails  for  aye. 

When  His  ftrokes  upon  me  light, 

Bitterly  I  feel  their  fmart, 
Yet  are  they,  if  feen  aright, 

Tokens  that  my  Father's  heart 
Yearns  to  bring  me  back  again 

Through  thefe  crofTes  to  His  fold, 

From  the  world  that  fain  would  hold 
Soul  and  body  in  its  chain. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

All  my  life  I  ftill  have  found, 

And  I  will  forget  it  never, 
Every  forrow  hath  its  bound, 

And  no  crofs  endures  for  ever. 
After  all  the  winter's  fnows 

Comes  fweet  fummer  back  again, 


204  % ijva  vSnriuautca. 

Patient  fouls  ne'er  wait  in  vain, 
Joy  is  given  for  all  their  woes. 
All  things  elfe  have  but  their  day, 
God's  love  only  lafts  for  aye. 

Since  then  neither  change  nor  end, 

iln  Thy  love  can  e'er  have  place, 
Father!  I  befeech  Thee  fend 

Unto  me  Thy  loving  grace. 
Help  Thy  feeble  child,  and  give 

Strength  to  ferve  Thee  day  and  night, 
Loving  Thee  with  all  my  might, 
While  on  earth  I  yet  muft  live; 
So  fhall  I  when  Time  is  o'er, 
Praife  and  love  Thee  evermore. 

Paul  Gerhardt.      1659. 


£qv\x  ®rnnanica.  2°5 


ST.  MICHAEL  AND  ALL  ANGELS. 

Are  they  not  all  miniftering  fpirits,  fent  forth  to  min- 
uter for  them  that  mall  be  heirs  of  falvation? — Heb. 
i.  14. 

RAISE  and  thanks  to  Thee  be  fang, 
Mighty  God,  in  fweeteft  tone! 
Lo !  from  every  land  and  tongue, 
Nations  gather  round  Thy  throne, 
Praifing  Thee,  that  Thou  doll  fend, 
Daily  from  Thy  Heaven  above, 
Angel-meiTengers  of  love, 
Who  Thy  threaten'd  Church  defend. 
Who  can  offer  worthily, 
Lord  of  angels,  praife  to  Thee ! 

'Tis  your  office,  Spirits  bright, 

Still  to  guard  us  night  and  day, 
And  before  your  heavenly  might, 

Powers  of  darknefs  flee  away ; 
Ever  doth  your  unfeen  hoft, 

Camp  around  us,  and  avert 

All  that  feek  to  do  us  hurt, 
Curbing  Satan's  malice  moft. 
Lord,  who  then  can  worthily, 
For  fuch  goodnefs  honour  Thee ! 

And  ye  come  on  ready  wing, 

When  we  drifc  toward  fheer  defpair, 

Seeing  nought  where  we  might  cling, 
Suddenly,  lo,  ye  are  there! 


206  fgta  (Bkrmanua. 

And  the  wearied  heart  grows  ftrong, 
As  an  angel  ftrengthen'd  Him, 
Fainting  in  the  garden  dim, 

'Neath  the  world's  vafl  woe  and  wrong. 

Lord,  who  then  can  worthily, 

For  fuch  mercy  honour  Thee ! 

Right  and  feemly  were  it  then 
We  fhould  glory  that  our  God 

Hath  fuch  honour  put  on  men, 
That  He  fends  o'er  earth  abroad 

Princes  of  the  realm  above, 

Champions,  who  by  day  and  night, 
Shield  us  with  His  holy  might; 

Come,  behold  how  great  His  love ! 

Lord,  who  then  can  worthily, 

For  fuch  favour  honour  Thee ! 

Praife  and  thanks  to  Thee  be  fung, 
Mighty  God,  in  fweeteft  tone. 

Lo !  from  every  land  and  tongue, 
Nations  gather  round  Thy  throne, 

Praifmg  Thee,  that  Thou  doft  fend, 
Hourly  from  Thy  glorious  fphere, 
Angels  down  to  help  us  here, 

And  Thy  threaten'd  Church  defend. 

Let  us  henceforth  worthily, 

Lord  of  angels,  honour  Thee. 

Rist.      1655. 


$,£xa  ©ormamca.  207 


ALL  SAINTS'  DAY. 

Lo,  a  great  multitude  which  no  man  could  number,  of 
all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people,  and  tongues, 
Hood  before  the  throne  and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed 
with  white  robes,  and  palms  in  their  hands ;  and  cried 
with  a  loud  voice,  faying,  Salvation  to  our  God  which 
fitteth  upon  the  throne  and  unto  the  Lamb. — From 
the  Epistle. 

HO  are  thofe  before  God's  throne, 
<x     What  the  crowned  hofl  I  fee? 
As  the  fky  with  flars  thick-ftrown 
Is  their  mining  company : 
Hallelujahs,  hark,  they  ling, 
Solemn  praife  to  God  they  bring. 

Who  are  thofe  that  in  their  hands 
Bear  aloft  the  conqueror's  palm, 

As  one  o'er  his  foeman  flands, 
Fallen  beneath  his  mighty  arm  ? 

What  the  war  and  what  the  ftrife, 

Whence  came  fuch  victorious  life? 


Who  are  thofe  array'd  in  light, 
Cloth'd  in  righteoufnefs  divine, 

Wearing  robes  moil  pure  and  white, 
That  unftain'd  fhall  ever  fhine, 

That  can  nevermore  decay; 

Whence  came  all  this  bright  array? 


2o8  Cgra  (Sarmanka. 


3 


They  are  thofe  who,  ftrong  in  faith, 
Battled  for  the  mighty  God ; 

Conquerors  o'er  the  world  and  death, 
Following  not  Sin's  crowded  road; 

Through  the  Lamb  who  once  was  flain, 

Did  they  fuch  high  victory  gain. 

They  are  thofe  who  much  have  borne, 
Trial,  forrow,  pain,  and  care, 

Who  have  wreftled  night  and  morn 
With  the  mighty  God  in  prayer; 

Now  their  ftrife  hath  found  its  clofe, 

God  hath  turn'd  away  their  woes. 

They  are  branches  of  that  Stem, 
Who  hath  our  Salvation  been, 

In  the  blood  He  fhed  for  them, 

Have  they  made  their  raiment  clean; 

Hence  they  wear  fuch  radiant  drefs, 

Clad  in  fpotlefs  holinefs. 

They  are  thofe  who  hourly  here 
Served  as  priefts  before  their  Lord, 

Offering  up  with  gladfome  cheer 
Soul  and  body  at  His  word. 

Now  within  the  Holy  Place, 

They  behold  Him  face  to  face. 

As  the  harts, at  noonday  pant 
For  the  river  frefh  and  clear, 

Did  their  fouls  oft  long  and  faint, 
For  the  Living  Fountain  here. 


0 


£t)va  (Sarmcmica.  209 

Now  their  thirft  is  quench'd,  they  dwell 
With  the  Lord  they  loved  fo  well. 

Thitherwards  I  flretch  my  hands, 

O  Lord  Jefus;  day  by  day, 
In  Thy  houfe  in  thefe  ftrange  lands, 

Compafs'd  round  with  foes,  I  pray, 
Let  me  fink  not  in  the  war, 
Drive  for  me  my  foes  afar. 

Caft  my  lot  in  earth  and  heaven 

With  Thy  faints  made  like  to  Thee, 

Let  my  bonds  be  alfo  riven, 

Make  Thy  child  who  loves  Thee  free ; 

Near  the  throne  where  Thou  dofl  fhine, 

May  a  place  at  lail  be  mine. 

Ah!  that  blifs  can  ne'er  be  told, 

When  with  all  that  army  bright, 
Thee,  my  Sun,  I  fhall  behold, 

Shining  liar-like  with  Thy  light. 
Amen!  Thanks  be  brought  to  Thee, 
Praife  through  all  eternity. 

Schenk.     Died  1727. 


MORNING  HYMNS. 


£gva  ©nrmanica. 


MORNING  HYMNS. 

I. 

OD  who  madeft  earth  and  heaven, 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghoft, 
Who  the  day  and  night  haft  given, 
Sun  and  moon  and  ftarry  hoft, 
Thou  whofe  mighty  hand  maintains 
Earth  and  all  that  fhe  contains; 

God,  I  thank  Thee  from  my  heart, 
That  through  all  the  livelong  night, 

Thou  haft  kept  me  fafe  apart 
From  all  danger,  pain,  affright, 

And  the  cunning  of  my  foe, 

Hath  not  wrought  my  overthrow. 

Let  the  night  of  fin  depart, 
As  this  earthly  night  hath  fled ; 

Jefus,  take  me  to  Thy  heart, 

In  the  blood  that  Thou  haft  fhed 

Is  my  help  and  hope  alone, 

For  the  evil  I  have  done. 

Help  me  as  each  morn  lhall  break, 

In  the  fpirit  to  arife, 
Let  my  foul  from  fin  awake, 

That  when  o'er  the  aged  fkies, 
Thy  great  Judgment  Day  appear, 
I  may  fee  it  free  from  fear. 


2I4  £m*a  ©trmamca. 

Ever  lead  me,  ever  guide 

All  my  wanderings  by  Thy  Word ; 
As  Thou  haft  been,  ftill  abide 

My  defence,  my  refuge,  Lord. 
Never  fafe  except  with  Thee, 
Ever  Thou  my  Guardian  be ! 

Mighty  God,  I  now  commend 

Soul  and  body  unto  Thee, 
All  the  powers  that  Thou  doft  lend, 

By  Thy  hand  directed  be; 
Thou  my  boaft,  my  ftrength  divine, 
Keep  me  with  Thee,  I  am  Thine. 

Let  Thine  angel  guard  my  foul 
From  the  Evil  One's  dark  power, 

All  his  thoufand  wiles  control, 
Warning,  guiding  me  each  hour, 

Till  my  final  reft  be  come, 

And  Thine  angel  bear  me  home. 

Heinrich  Albert.     1644. 


H. 

The  golden  funbeams  with  their  joyous  gleams, 
Are  kindling  o'er  earth,  her  life  and  mirth, 

Shedding  forth  lovely  and  heart-cheering  light; 

Through  the  dark  hours'  chill  I  lay  filent  and  ftilJ, 
But  rifen  at  length  to  gladnefs  and  ftrength, 

I  gaze  on  the  heavens  all  glowing  and  bright. 


£ma  @*rmanica.  2*5 

Mine  eyes  now  behold  Thy  works,  that  of  old 
And  ever  are  telling  to  all  men  here  dwelling, 

How  great  is  Thy  glory,  how  wondrous  Thy  power; 
They  tell  of  the  home  where  the  faithful  fhall  come, 
Who  depart  to  that  peace  that  can  change  not  or 
ceafe, 

From  earth  where  all  palTeth  as  pafTes  the  hour. 

Come  let  us  raife  our  voices,  and  praife 
The  Maker  of  all,  at  His  feet  let  us  fall, 

Offering  to  Him  again  all  He  hath  given; 

The  bell  that  is  ours,  our  hearts  and  our  powers, 
Glad  fongs  that  we  ling  Him,  thanks  that  we 
bring  Him — 

Thefe  are  the  incenfe  moft  grateful  to  Heaven. 

Evening  and  morning  thus  ever  He  cares  for  us, 

Bleffing,  renewing,  warding  off  ruin, 
Thefe  are  His  works,  thus  His  goodnefs  we  prove ; 

When  we  are  fleeping,  watch  He  is  keeping, 

When  we  arife,  He  gladdens  our  eyes 
With  the  funfhine  of  mercy,  the  glow  of  His  love. 

All  pafTeth  away,  but  God  liveth  aye, 

And  changeth  in  nought ;  eternal  His  Thought, 

His  Word  and  His  Will  are  fteadfaft  and  fure ; 
Never  His  grace  nor  His  mercy  decays, 
It  heals  the  fad  heart  from  its  deadlieft  fmart, 

Giving  it  life  that  fhall  ever  endure. 

God,  Thou  my  crown !  forgiving  look  down, 
And  hide  from  Thy  face  through  Thy  pitying 
grace, 


216  £m*ct  (Bamcmtca. 

All  my  tranfgreffions  againft  Thy  command ; 

Henceforth  oh  rule  me,  guide  me  and  fchool  me, 
As  Thou  feeft  fit;  my  ways  I  commit 

All  to  Thy  pleafure,  Thy  merciful  hand. 

Croffes  and  forrow  may  end  with  the  morrow, 

Stormieft  feas  mall  fink  into  peace, 
The  wild  winds  are  hufh'd,  and  the  funfhine  returns ; 

So  fulnefs  of  reft,  and  the  calm  of  the  bleft, 

Are  waiting  me  there,  in  that  garden  moll:  fair, 
That  home  for  which  daily  my  fpirit  here  yearns. 

Paul  Gerhardt. 


in. 

Come,  my  foul,  awake,  'tis  morning, 

Day  is  dawning 
O'er  the  earth,  arife  and  pray ; 
Come,  to  Him  who  made  this  fplendour, 

Thou  muft  render 
All  thy  feeble  powers  can  pay. 

From  the  ftars  now  learn  thy  duty, 

See  their  beauty 
Paling  in  the  golden  air; 
So  God's  light  Thy  mills  mould  banilh, 

Thus  mould  vanifh 
What  to  darken'd  fenfe  feem'd  fair. 


iC^va  (Smnanxca. 


217 


See  how  everything  that  liveth, 

Gkdly  ftriveth 
On  the  pleafant  light  to  gaze; 
Stirs  with  joy  each  thing  that  groweth, 

As  it  knoweth 
Darknefs  fmitten  by  its  rays. 

Soul,  thy  incenfe  alfo  proffer; 

Thou  ihouldit  offer 
Praife  to  Him,  who  from  thy  head 
Kept  afar  the  florms  of  forrow, 

That  the  morrow 
Finds  the»night  in  peace  hath  fled. 

Bid  Him  blefs  what  thou  art  doing, 

If  purfuing 
Some  good  aim;  but  if  there  lurks 
111  intent  in  thine  endeavour, 

May  He  ever 
Thwart  and  turn  thee  from  thy  works. 
Think^that  He,  the  AU-difcerning, 

Knows  each  turning 
Of  thy  path,  each  finful  ftain  ; 
Nay  what  ihame  would  fain  glofs  over, 

Can  difcover; 
All  thou  doit  to  Him  is  plain. 
Bound  unto  the  flying  hours 

Are  our  powers ; 
Earth's  vain  good  floats  down  their  wave, 
That  thy  (hip,  my  foul,  is  hailing, 

Never  refting, 
To  its  haven  in  the  grave. 

u 


^i  8  £gra  (gftvmanita. 

Pray  that  when  thy  life  is  clofing, 

Calm  repofmg, 
Thou  mayft  die,  and  not  in  pain; 
That  the  night  of  death  departed, 

Thou  glad-hearted, 
Mayft  behold  the  Sun  again. 

From  God's  glances  fhrink  thou  never, 

Meet  them  ever; 
Who  fubmits  him  to  His  grace, 
Finds  that  earth  no  funfhine  knoweth 

Such  as  gloweth 
O'er  his  pathway  all  his  days. 

Wakeneft  thou  again  to  forrow, 

Oh!  then  borrow 
Strength  from  Him,  whofe  fun-like  might 
On  the  mountain-fummit  tarries, 

And  yet  carries 
To  the  vales  their  mirth  and  light. 

Round  the  gifts  He  on  thee  mowers, 

Fiery  towers 
Will  He  fet,  be  not  afraid, 
Thou  fhalt  dwell  'mid  angel  legions, 

In  the  regions 
Satan's  felf  dares  not  invade. 

Von  Canitz.      i  654- i  699. 


Cgra  <&ermamca.  219 


IV. 

Dayspring  of  Eternity ! 

Dawn  on  us  this  morning-tide. 
Light  from  Light's  exhauftlefs  fea, 

Now  no  more  Thy  radiance  hide ; 
But  difpel  with  glorious  might 
111  our  night. 

Let  the  morning  dew  of  love 
On  our  fleeping  confcience  rain; 

Gentle  comfort  from  above 

Flow  through  life's  long  parched  plain ; 

Water  daily  us  Thy  flock 

From  the  rock. 
'      /* 

Let  the  glow  of  love  deftroy 
Cold  obedience  faintly  given; 

Wake  our  hearts  to  ftrength  and  joy 
With  the  flufhing  eaftern  heaven, 

Let  us  truly  rife  ere  yet 

Life  hath  fet. 
A 

Brighteft  Star  of  eaftern  fkies, 

Let  that  final  morn  appear, 
When  our  bodies  too  fhall  rife 

Free  from  all  that  painM  them  here, 
Strong  their  joyful  courfe  to  run 

As  the  fun. 

A 


220  £uva  (Bcvmantca. 

To  yon  world  be  Thou  our  light, 
O  Thou  glorious  Sun  of  grace ; 

Lead  us  through  the  tearful  night, 
To  yon  fair  and  blefTed  place, 

Where  to  joy  that  never  dies 
We  fhall  rife. 

VON    ROSENROTH.        I  684. 


V. 

Once  more  from  reft  I  rife  again, 
To  greet  a  day  of  toil  and  pain, 

My  Heaven-appointed  lot; 
Unknowing  what  new  grief  may  be 
With  this  new  day  in  ftore  for  me, 

But  it  fhall  harm  me  not 
I  know  full  well;  my  loving  God 
Will  fuffer  not  a  hurtful  load. 

My  burden  every  day  is  new, 
But  every  day  my  God  is  true, 

And  all  my  cares  hath  borne; 
Ere  eventide  can  no  man  know 
What  Day  hath  brought  of  joy  or  woe, 

And  though  it  feem  each  morn 
To  fome  new  path  of  fuffering  call, 
With  God  I  can  furmount  it  all 

Since  this  I  know,  oh  wherefore  fink, 
Mv  faithlefs  heart?  And  whv  doft  fhrink 


iCma  (Bnrmamca.  221 

To  take  thy  load  again? 
Bear  what  thou  canft,  God  bears  thy  lot, 
The  Lord  of  All,  He  flumbleth  not; 

Pure  bleffing  fhall  thou  gain, 
If  thou  with  Him  right  onward  go, 
Nor  fear  to  tread  the  path  of  woe. 

My  heart  grows  flrong,  all  fear  mull  fly 
Whene'er  I  feel  Thy  love,  Moll  High, 

Doth  compafs  me  around; 
But  would  I  have  Thee  for  my  fhield, 
No  more  to  fin  my  foul  mull  yield, 

But^n  Thy  ways  be  found; 
Thou  God  wilt  never  walk  with  me, 
If  I  would  turn  afide  from  Thee. 

Dear  God,  let  me  Thy  guidance  find, 
I  follow  with  a  contrite  mind, 

Oh  make  me  true  and  pure ; 
As  a  good  foldier  I  will  fight 
This  world  of  fin,  and  in  Thy  might 

My  victory  is  fure ; 
Then  bravely  I  can  meet  each  day, 
And  fear  it  not,  come  what  come  may. 

My  God  and  Lord,  I  call  on  Thee 
The  load  that  weighs  too  fore  on  me, 

.  The  yoke  'neath  which  I  bow; 
I  lay  my  rank,  my  high  command, 
In  my  Almighty  Father's  hand, 

Well  knowing,  Lord,  that  Thou 
Wilt  ne'er  withdraw  it,  for  Thy  truth 
Hath  ever  guided  me  from  youth. 


222  ft^xa  ©ermanica. 

To  Thee  my  kindred  I  commend, 
For  they  are  fafe  if  Thou  defend, 

Oh  guard  them  round  about; 
My  fmful  foul  would  fhelter  take 
In  Jefu's  bofom,  for  whofe  fake 

Thou  wilt  not  call  her  out; 
When  foul  and  body  part  at  laft, 
Then  all  myfelf  on  Thee  I  call. 

Anton  Ulrich, 
Duke  of  Brunfwick.      1667. 


EVENING    HYMNS. 


£$va  ©ermanica.  225 


EVENING  HYMNS. 


HE  happy  funihine  all  is  gone, 
The  gloomy  night  comes  fwiftly  on ; 
But  Ihine  Thou  ftill,  O  Chrift  our  Light, 
Nor  let  us  lofe  ourfelves  in  night. 


We  thank  Thee,  Father,  that  this  day 
Thy  angels  watch'd  around  our  way, 
Warding  off  harm  and  vexing  fear ; 
Through  them  Thy  goodnefs  guards  us  here. 

Lord,  have  we  anger'd  Thee  to-day, 
Remember  not  our  fins,  we  pray, 
But  let  Thy  mercy  o'er  them  fweep, 
And  give  us  calm  and  reftful  fleep. 

Thy  angels  guard  our  fleeping  hours, 
And  keep  afar  all  evil  Powers ; 
And  Thou  all  pain  and  mifchief  ward 
From  foul  and  body,  faithful  Lord ! 

N.  Hermann.      1560. 


11* 


226  Cgra  dbzxmanka. 


11. 

Now  reft  the  woods  again, 
Man,  cattle,  town  and  plain, 

The  world  all  fleeping  lies. 
But  fleep  not  yet,  my  foul, 
For  He  who  made  this  Whole, 

Loves  that  thy  prayers  to  Him  arife. 

O  Sun,  where  is  Thy  glow  ? 
Thou'rt  fled  before  thy  foe, 

Thou  yieldeft  to  the  night. 
Farewell,  a  better  Sun, 
My  Jefus,  hath  begun 

To  fill  my  heart  with  joy  and  light. 

The  long  bright  day  is  paft, 
The  golden  ftars  at  laft 

Beitud  the  dark-blue  heaven; 
And  like  a  liar  lhall  I 
For  ever  fhine  on  high, 

When  my  releafe  from  earth  is  given. 

My  body  haftes  to  reft, 
My  weary  limbs  undreft, 

I  put  away  thefe  figns 
Of  our  mortality ; 
Once  Chrift  lhall  give  to  me 

That  fpotlefs  robe  that  ever  Ihines. 


Cgrct  ©evmcmtca.  227 

My  head  and  hands  and  feet 
Their  reft  with  gladnefs  greet, 

And  know  their  work  is  o'er; 
My  heart,  thou  too  lhalt  be 
From  finful  works  fet  free, 

Nor  pine  in  weary  forrow  more. 
Ye  limbs  with  toil  opprefs'd, 
Go  now  and  take  your  reft, 

For  quiet  fleep  ye  crave. 
Ere  many  a  day  is  fled, 
Ye'll  find  a  narrower  bed 

And  longer  flumber  in  the  grave. 
My  heavy  eyes  muft  clofe, 
Seal'd  up  in  deep  repofe, 

Where  is  my  fafety  then? 
Do  Thou  Thy  mercy  fend, 
My  helplefs  hours  defend, 

Thou  fleeplefs  Eye,  that  watcheft  over  men. 
Jefus,  my  joy,  now  fpread 
Thy  wings  above  my  head, 

To  fhield  Thy  little  one. 
Would  Satan  work  me  wrong, 
Oh!  be  Thy  angels'  fong, 

"  To  him  no  evil  fhall  be  done." 
My  loved  ones  all,  good  night! 
No  grief  or  danger  light 

On  your  defencelefs  heads. 
God  fend  you  happy  fleep, 
And  let  His  angels  keep 

Watch  golden-arm'd  around  your  beds! 

Paul  Gerhardt.      16;^. 


228  £ma  (Btxmanxta. 


in. 

The  day  expires; 
My  foul  defires 
And  pants  to  fee  that  day, 
When  whate'er  hath  vex'd  her  here 
Shall  be  done  away. 

The  night  is  here, 
Oh!  be  Thou  near; 
Chrift,  make  it  light  within; 
Drive  away  from  out  my  heart 
All  the  night  of  fin. 

The  funbeams  pale, 

And  flee  and  fail; 
O  uncreated  Sun ! 
Let  Thy  light  now  fhine  on  us, 
Then  our  joy  were  won. 

All  things  that  move 

Below,  above, 
Now  with  fleep  are  bleft; 
Work  Thou  ftill  in  me  while  I 
Calmly  in  Thee  reft. 

When  fhall  the  fway 
Of  night  and  day, 
Ceafe  to  rule  man  thus? 
When  that  brighteft  day  of  days 
Once  fhall  dawn  on  us. 


£gra  ©armcmira.  229 

Ah!  never  then 

Her  light  again 
Jerufalem  fhall  mifs, 
For  the  Lamb  fhall  be  her  Light, 
Filling  her  with  blifs. 

Oh  were  I  there ! 

Where  all  the  air 
With  lovely  founds  is  ringing; 
Where  the  faints  Thee,  Holy  Lord, 
Evermore  are  finging! 

Lord  Jefus,  Thou 
*        My  reft  art  now, 
Oh  help  me  that  I  come, 
Radiant  with  Thy  light  to  mine 
In  Thy  glorious  home ! 

Freylinghausen.     i  704. 


IV. 

The  moon  hath  rifen  on  high, 
And  in  the  clear  dark  fky 

The  golden  ftars  all  brightly  glow; 

And  black  and  hufh'd  the  woods, 
While  o'er  the  fields  and  floods 

The  white  milts  hover  to  and  fro. 

How  ftill  the  earth!  how  calm! 
What  dear  and  home-like  charm 


23°  £gra  ©armcmua. 

From  filent  twilight  doth  fhe  borrow ! 
Like  to  fome  quiet  room, 
Where  wrapt  in  flill  foft  gloom, 

We  fleep  away  the  daylight's  forrow. 

Look  up ;  the  moon  to-night 
Shows  us  but  half  her  light, 

And  yet  we  know  her  round  and  fair. 
At  other  things  how  oft 
We  in  our  blindnefs  fcoffM, 

Becaufe  we  faw  not  what  was  there. 

We  haughty  fons  of  men 

Have  but  a  narrow  ken, 
We  are  but  finners  poor  and  weak. 

Yet  airy  dreams  we  build, 

And  deem  us  wife  and  fkiU'd, 
And  come  not  nearer  what  we  feek. 

Thy  mercy  let  us  fee, 

Nor  find  in  vanity 
Our  joy;  nor  truft  in  what  departs; 

But  true  and  fimple  grow, 

And  live  to  Thee  below 
With  funny  pure  and  childlike  hearts. 

Let  death  all  gently  come 

At  laft  to  take  us  home, 
And  let  us  meet  him  fearlefsly; 

And  when  thefe  bonds  are  riven, 

Oh  take  us  to  Thy  heaven, 
Our  Lord  and  God,  to  dwell  with  Thee. 


£gra  ©crmanica.  231 

We  fink  to  flumber  now 

Lord,  in  Thy  name ;  do  Thou 
Forgive  our  fins,  and  o'er  our  heads 

Keep  watch  the  livelong  night, 

And  let  foft  fleep  alight 
On  us,  and  on  all  fick  and  painful  beds. 

Claudius.     1782. 


FOR  THE  SICK  AND  DYING. 


£gra  ©trmcmtca.  235 


FOR  THE  SICK  AND  DYING. 


I. 


/f=s^\  N  the  midft  of  life,  behold 
Death  has  girt  us  round. 


Whom  for  help  then  fhall  we  pray, 
Where  fhall  grace  be  found? 
In  Thee,  O  Lord,  alone ! 

We  rue  the  evil  we  have  done, 
That  Thy  wrath  on  us  hath  drawn. 
Holy  Lord  and  God! 
Strong  and  Holy  God! 
Merciful  and  Holy  Saviour! 

Eternal  God! 
Sink  us  not  beneath 
Bitter  pains  of  endlefs  death, 
Kyrie  eleifon. 

In  the  midft  of  death  the  jaws 

Of  hell  againft  us  gape. 
Who  from  peril  dire  as  this 

Openeth  us  efcape? 
'Tis  Thou,  O  Lord,  alone! 

Our  bitter  fuffering  and  our  fin 
Pity  from  Thy  mercy  win, 

Holy  Lord  and  God! 

Strong  and  holy  God! 
Merciful  and  holy  Saviour! 


236  £grct  (Bn*manica. 

Eternal  God! 
Let  us  not  defpair 
For  the  fire  that  burneth  there, 

Kyrie  eleifon ! 

In  the  midft  of  hell  our  fins 

Drive  us  to  defpair; 
Whither  fhall  we  flee  from  them? 

Where  is  refuge,  where? 
In  Thee,  Lord  Chrift,  alone! 

For  Thou  haft  fhed  Thy  precious  blood, 
All  our  fins  Thou  makeft  good, 

Holy  Lord  and  God! 

Strong  and  holy  God! 
Merciful  and  holy  Saviour! 

Eternal  God! 
Let  us  never  fall 
From  the  true  faith's  hope  for  all, 

Kyrie  eleifon! 

Notker  tr.  by  Luther. 
Written  about  900,  tr.  1524. 


II. 

God  !  whom  I  as  love  have  known, 
Thou  haft  ficknefs  laid  on  me, 
And  thefe  pains  are  fent  of  Thee, 

Under  which  I  burn  and  moan  ; 

Let  them  burn  away  the  fin, 

That  too  oft  hath  check'd  the  love 


Ciivct  ©cvmamcct.  237 

Wherewith  Thou  my  heart  wouldft  move, 
When  Thy  Spirit  works  within  ! 

In  my  weaknefs  be  Thou  Strong, 

Be  Thou  fweet  when  I  am  fad, 

Let  me  ftill  in  Thee  be  glad, 
Though  my  pains  be  keen  and  long. 
All  that  plagues  my  body  now, 

All  that  wafteth  me  away, 

Prefling  on  me  night  and  day, 
Love  hath  fent,  for  Love  art  Thou ! 

Suffering  is  the  work  now  fent, 

Nothing  can  I  do  but  lie 

Suffering  as  the  hours  go  by ; 
All  my  powers  to  this  are  bent. 
Suffering  is  my  gain ;  I  bow 

To  my  heavenly  Father's  will, 

And  receive  it  hufh'd  and  ftill; 
Suffering  is  my  worfhip  now. 

God!  I  take  it  from  Thy  hand 

As  a  fign  of  love,  I  know 

Thou  wouldft  perfect  me  through  woe, 
Till  I  pure  before  Thee  ftand. 
All  refrefhment,  all  the  food 

Given  me  for  the  body's  need, 

Comes  from  Thee,  who  lov'ft  indeed, 
Comes  from  Thee,  for  Thou  art  good. 

Let  my  foul  beneath  her  load 

Faint  not  through  the  o'erwearied  flefh, 


238  Cjjfa  (fi>tt*mamca. 

Let  her  hourly  drink  afrefh 
Love  and  peace  from  Thee,  my  God. 
Let  the  body's  pain  and  fmart 
Hinder  not  her  flight  to  Thee, 
Nor  the  calm  Thou  giveft  me; 
Keep  Thou  up  the  finking  heart. 

Grant  me  never  to  complain, 
Make  me  to  Thy  will  reiign'd, 
With  a  quiet,  humble  mind, 

Cheerful  on  my  bed  of  pain. 

In  the  flefh  who  fuffers  thus, 
Shall  be  purified  from  fin, 
And  the  foul  renew'd  within ; 

Therefore  pain  is  laid  on  us. 

I  commend  to  Thee  my  life, 

And  my  body  to  the  crofs; 

Never  let  me  think  it  lofs 
That  I  thus  am  freed  from  ftrife — 
Wholly  Thine ;  my  faith  is  fure 

Whether  life  or  death  be  mine, 

I  am  fafe  if  I  am  Thine ; 
For  'tis  Love  that  makes  me  pure. 

RlCHTER.        I  71  3« 


£in*ci  (Bcrmcuuca.  239 


in. 

When  the  laft  agony  draws  nigh, 

My  fpirit  finks  in  bitter  fear: 
Courage  !  I  conquer  though  I  die, 

For  Chrift  with  Death  once  wreftled  here. 
Thy  ftrife,  O  Chrift,  with  Death's  dark  power 
Upholds  me  in  this  fearful  hour. 

In  faith  I  hide  myfelf  in  Thee, 

I  fhall  not  perifh  in  the  ftrife ; 
I  fhare  Thy  war,  Thy  victory, 

And  Death  is  fwallow'd  up  in  Life. 
Thy  ftrife,  O  Chrift,  with  Death  of  yore 
Hath  conquer'd,  and  I  fear  no  more. 

Anon. 


IV. 

Lord  Jefus  Chrift,  true  Man  and  God, 
Who  boreft  anguifh,  fcorn,  the  rod, 
And  diedft  at  laft  upon  the  tree, 
To  bring  Thy  Father's  grace  to  me ; 
I  pray  Thee  through  that  bitter  woe, 
Let  me,  a  ftnner,  mercy  know. 


24°  £tjra  <5n*mamca. 

When  comes  the  hour  of  failing  breath, 
And  I  muft  wrertle,  Lord,  with  death, 
When  from  my  fight  all  fades  away, 
And  when  my  tongue  no  more  can  fay, 
And  when  mine  ears  no  more  can  hear, 
And  when  my  heart  is  rack'd  with  fear ; 

When  all  my  mind  is  darken'd  o'er, 
And  human  help  can  do  no  more, 
Then  come,  Lord  Jefus,  come  with  fpeed, 
And  help  me  in  my  hour  of  need, 
Lead  me  from  this  dark  vale  beneath, 
And  fhorten  then  the  pangs  of  death. 

All  evil  fpirits  drive  away, 
But  let  Thy  Spirit  with  me  flay 
Until  my  foul  the  body  leave ; 
Then  in  Thy  hands  my  foul  receive, 
And  let  the  earth  my  body  keep, 
Till  the  Laft  Day  mail  break  its  fleep. 

Joyful  my  refurrettion  be, 

Thou  in  the  Judgment  plead  for  me, 

And  hide  my  fins,  Lord,  from  Thy  face, 

And  give  me  Life  of  Thy  dear  grace ! 

I  truft  Thee  utterly,  my  Lord, 

For  Thou  haft  promifed  in  Thy  Word: 

"In  truth  I  tell  you,  who  receives 
My  word,  and  keeps  it,  and  believes, 
Shall  never  fall  God's  wrath  beneath, 
Shall  never  tafte  eternal  death  ; 


Cgvtt  ©ormanUa.  hi 

Though  here  on  earth,  in  time,  he  die, 
He  is  not  therefore  loft;  for  I 
Will  come,  and  with  a  mighty  hand 
Will  break  away  Death's  ftrongeft  band, 
And  lift  him  hence  that  he  fhall  be 
For  ever  in  my  realm  with  Me, 
For  ever  living  there  in  blifs." 
Ah  let  us  not  that  glory  mils! 

Dear  Lord,  forgive  us  all  our  guilt, 
Help  us  to  wait  until  Thou  wilt 
That  we  depart ;  and  let  our  faith 
Be  brave  and  conquer  e'en  in  death, 
Firm  refting  on  Thy  facred  word, 
Until  we  fleep  in  Thee,  our  Lord. 

Paul  Eber.      1557. 


V. 

Go  and  dig  my  grave  to-day! 

Weary  of  my  wanderings  all, 
Now  from  earth  I  pafs  away, 

For  the  heavenly  peace  doth  call; 
Angel  voices  from  above 
Call  me  to  their  reft  and  love. 

Go  and  dig  my  grave  to-day ! 

Homeward  doth  my  journey  tend, 
And  I  lay  my  ftaff  away 

Here  where  all  things  earthly  end, 
And  I  lay  my  weary  head 
Jn  the  only  painlefs  bed. 


242  £$xa  ©mnanica* 

What  is  there  I  yet  mould  do, 
Lingering  in  this  darkfome  vale? 

Proud,  and  mighty,  fair  to  view, 
Are  our  fchemes,  and  yet  they  fail, 

Like  the  fand  before  the  wind, 

That  no  power  of  man  can  bind. 

Farewell  earth  then;  I  am  glad 
That  in  peace  I  now  depart, 

For  thy  very  joys  are  fad, 

And  thy  hopes  deceive  the  heart; 

Fleeting  is  thy  beauty's  gleam, 

Falfe  and  changing  as  a  dream. 

And  to  you  a  laft  good  night, 
Sun  and  moon  and  ftars  fo  dear; 

Farewell  all  your  golden  light; 
I  am  travelling  far  from  here, 

To  the  fplendours  of  that  day 
Where  ye  all  mull  fade  away. 

Farewell,  O  ye  much-loved  friends ! 

Grief  hath  fmote  you  as  a  fword, 
But  the  Comforter  defcends 

Unto  them  who  love  the  Lord. 
Weep  not  o'er  a  paffing  fhow, 
To  th'  eternal  world  I  go. 

Weep  not  that  I  take  my  leave 
Of  the  world;  that  I  exchange 

Errors  that  too  clofely  cleave, 

Shadows,  empty  ghofts  that  range 


£j)ra  (Sarmamca.  243 

Through  this  world  of  nought  and  night, 
For  a  land  of  truth  and  light. 

Weep  not,  deareft  to  my  heart, 

For  I  find  my  Saviour  near, 
And  I  know  that  I  have  part 

In  the  pains  He  fuffer'd  here, 
When  He  fhed  His  facred  blood 
For  the  whole  world's  higheft  good. 

Weep  not,  my  Redeemer  lives; 

Heavenward  fpringing  from  the  duft, 
Clear-eyed  Hope  her  comfort  gives ; 

Faith,  Heaven's  champion,  bids  us  truft ; 
Love  eternal  whifpers  nigh, 
"Child  of  God,  fear  not  to  die!" 

E.  M.  Arndt. 


VI. 

Then  I  have  conquer'd ;  then  at  laft 

My  courfe  is  run,  good  night ! 
I  am  well  pleafed  that  it  is  paft; 

A  thoufand  times,  good  night! 
But  ye,  dear  friends,  whom  I  mull  leave, 

Look  not  thus  anxioufly; 
Why  mould  ye  thus  lament  and  grieve? 

It  ftandeth  well  with  me. 


244  fgvct  ©ermanica. 

Farewell,  O  anguifh,  pain,  and  fear, 

Farewell,  farewell  for  ever ! 
It  glads  my  heart  to  leave  you  here, 

Redeem'd  from  you  for  ever! 
Henceforth  a  life  of  joy  I  fhare, 

In  my  Creator's  hand; 
None  of  the  griefs  can  touch  me  there, 

That  haunt  this  lower  land. 

Who  yet  o'er  earth  in  time  muft  roam, 

Not  yet  from  error  free, 
Scarce  Hip  the  language  of  our  home, 

The  glad  eternity. 
Far  better  is  a  happy  death, 

Than  worldly  life,  I  trow; 
The  weaknefs  once  I  fank  beneath, 

I  never  more  mall  know. 

Lay  on  my  coffin  many  a  wreath, 

For  conquerors  wreath'd  are  feen; 
And  lo !  my  foul  attains  through  death 

The  crown  of  evergreen, 
That  blooms  in  fadelefs  groves  of  heaven ; 

And  this  fair  victor's  crown, 
That  mighty  Son  of  God  hath  given, 

Who  for  my  fake  came  down. 

'Twas  but  awhile  that  I  was  fent 

To  dwell  among  you  here; 
Now  God  refumes  what  He  hath  lent, 

Oh  grieve  not  o'er  my  bier; 


£j)nt  ©mnimica.  hs 

But  fay,  'twas  given  at  His  command 

Who  takes  it,  He  is  juft; 
Our  life  and  death  are  in  His  hand, 

His  fervants  can  but  truft. 


That  ye  fhould  fee  my  grave,  alas ! 

Shows  we  are  frail  indeed; 
That  it  fo  foon  fhould  come  to  pafs, 

Our  Father  hath  decreed; 
And  He  your  bitter  grief  ihall  ftill. 

Think  not  too  young  am  I, 
For  he  who  dies  as  God  doth  will, 

Is  old  enough  to  die. 

Farewell,  thou  dear,  dear  foul,  farewell! 

To  thofe  fweet  pleafures  go, 
That  we  who  mourning  here  mull  dwell, 

Not  yet,  alas !  can  know. 
Ah  when  fhall  that  great  day  be  come, 

When  thefe  things  fade  away, 
And  thou  fhalt  bid  us  welcome  home; 

Would  God  it  were  to-day ! 

Sacer.      1665. 


VII. 

My  God,  to  Thee  I  now  commend 
My  foul;  for  Thou,  O  Lord, 

Doft  live  and  love  me  without  end, 
And  wilt  perform  Thy  word. 


246  £gra  ©wmanica. 

To  whom  elfe  mould  I  make  my  plea, 

That  heavenly  life  be  mine? 
All  fouls,  my  God,  belong  to  Thee, 

My  foul  is  alfo  Thine. 

Thou  gav'ft  my  fpirit  at  my  birth, 
Take  back  what  Thou  haft  given; 

And  with  the  Lord  I  ferved  on  earth, 
Grant  me  to  live  in  heaven. 

My  foul  is  fprinkled  o'er  with  blood 

Thy  Son  hath  fhed  for  us, 
And  in  Thy  fight  is  pure  and  good, 

Adorn'd  and  radiant  thus. 

Thou  my  deliverer  waft  of  yore, 
From  fin  Thou  mad'ft  me  free, 

Now,  faithful  God,  doft  Thou  once  more 
In  death  deliver  me. 

Thou  hVft  and  loveft  without  end, 

And  doft  perform  Thy  word; 
My  paffing  foul  I  now  commend 

To  Thee,  my  God  and  Lord ! 

HlLLER.        I765. 


FOR    THE    BURIAL    OF 
THE    DEAD. 


£gra  ©evmamca.  249 


FOR  THE  BURIAL  OF  THE  DEAD. 


H  WEEP  not,  mourn  not  o'er  this  bier, 
On  fiich  death  none  mould  look  with  fear; 
He  died  as  dies  a  Chriftian  man, 
And  with  his  death  true  life  began. 


Coffin  and  grave  we  deck  with  care, 
His  body  reverently  we  bear, 
It  is  not  dead  but  refts  in  God, 
And  foftly  fleeps  beneath  the  fod. 

It  feems  as  all  were  over  now, — 
The  heavy  limbs,  the  foullefs  brow, — 
Yet  through  thefe  rigid  limbs  once  more 
A  nobler  life,  ere  long,  fhall  pour. 

Thefe  dead  dry  bones  again  fhall  feel 
New  warmth  and  vigour  through  them  Ileal; 
Reknit  and  living  they  fhall  foar 
On  high  where  Chrift  lives  evermore. 

This  body,  lying  ftifF  and  ftark, 
Shall  rife  unharm'd  from  out  the  dark, 
And  fwiftly  mount  up  through  the  ikies, 
Even  as  the  fpirit  heavenwards  flies. 

12* 


25°  £2ra  ©ermanica. 

The  buried  grain  of  wheat  mull  die, 
Wither'd  and  worthlefs  long  muft  lie, 
Yet  fprings  to  light  all  fweet  and  fair, 
And  proper  fruits  fhall  richly  bear: 

Even  fo  this  body  made  of  duft, 
To  earth  we  once  again  entruft, 
And  painlefs  it  fhall  flumber  here, 
Until  the  Laft  Great  Day  appear. 

God  breathed  into  this  houfe  of  clay 
The  fpirit  that  hath  pafs'd  away, 
Chrift  gave  the  true  courageous  mind, 
The  noble  heart,  ye  no  more  find. 

Now  earth  has  hid  it  from  our  eyes, 
Till  God  fhall  bid  it  wake  and  rife, 
Who  ne'er  the  creature  will  forget, 
On  whom  His  image  He  hath  fet. 

Ah  would  that  promifed  Day  were  here, 
When  Chrift  fhall  once  again  appear; 
Then  fhall  He  call,  nor  one  be  loft, 
To  endlefs  life  earth's  buried  hoft. 

N.  Hermann.      1560. 
After  Prudentius. 


II. 

Now  refts  her  foul  in  Jefu's  arms, 
Her  body  in  the  grave  fleeps  well, 

His  heart  her  death-chill'd  heart  re-warms, 
And  reft  more  deep  than  tongue  can  tell,- 


£$xa  ©mnantca.  25 ! 

Her  few  brief  hours  of  conflict  pafs'd, — 

She  finds  with  Chrift,  her  Friend,  at  laft ; 

She  bathes  in  tranquil  feas  of  peace, 
God  wipes  away  her  tears,  fhe  feels 
New  life  that  all  her  languor  heals, 

The  glory  of  the  Lamb  me  fees. 

She  hath  efcaped  all  danger  now, 

Her  pain  and  fighing  all  are  fled; 
The  crown  of  joy  is  on  her  brow, 

Eternal  glories  o'er  her  filed, 
In  golden  robes,  a  queen,  a  bride, 
She  ftandeth  at  her  Sovereign's  fide, 
She  fees  His  face  unveil'd  and  bright; 
With  joy  and  love  He  greets  her  foul, 
She  feels  herfelf  made  inly  whole, 
A  lefTer  light  amid  His  light. 

The  child  hath  now  its  Father  feen, 

And  feels  what  kindling  love  may  be, 
And  knoweth  what  thofe  words  may  mean, 

"Himfelf,  the  Father,  loveth  thee." 
A  fhorelefs  ocean,  an  abyfs 
Unfathom'd,  fill'd  with  good  and  blifs, 
Now  breaks  on  her  enraptured  fight; 
She  fees  God's  face,  fhe  learneth  there 
What  this  fhall  be,  to  be  His  heir, 
Joint-heir  with  Chrift  her  Lord,  in  light. 

The  body  refts,  its  labours  over, 

And  fleeps  till  Chrift  fhall  bid  it  wake; 

The  duft  that  earth  and  darknefs  cover, 
Then  as  a  fun  its  tomb  fhall  break. 


25z  £gra  <8>*rmanica. 

Ah  with  what  joy  it  rifes  then 

To  meet  the  perfect  foul  again ! 

Redeem'd  from  death,  no  more  to  fever, 
At  that  great  marriage  feait  fhall  they 
With  all  the  faints  their  homage  pay, 

And  worfhip  there  the  Lamb  for  ever. 

We  who  yet  wander  through  the  wafte, 
In  faith  long  after  thee  on  high; 

While  here  the  bread  of  tears  we  tafte, 
We  think  upon  that  home  of  joy, 

Where  we  (who  knows  how  foon  ? )  fhail  meet 

With  all  the  faints  at  Jefu's  feet, 

And  dwell  with  Him  for  ever  there. 
We  fhall  fee  God;  how  deep  the  blifs 
We  know  not  yet  that  lies  in  this; 

Lord  Jefus,  come,  our  hearts  prepare ! 

Allendorf.      1725, 


III. 

Oh  how  blefled,  faithful  fouls,  are  ye, 

Who  have  pafTed  through  death;  your  God  ye  fee; 

Efcaped  at  laft 
From  all  the  forrows  that  yet  hold  us  fall ! 

Here  as  in  a  prifon  we  are  bound, 
Care  and  fear,  and  terrors  hem  us  round, 

And  all  we  know 
It  is  but  toil  and  grief  of  heart  below. 


£gva  <£>nmantca.  253 

While  that  ye  are  retting  in  your  home, 
Safe  from  pain,  all  mifery  o'ercome, 

No  grief  or  crois 
Mixes  with  yonder  joys  to  work  you  lofs. 

Chrift  doth  wipe  away  your  every  tear, 
Ye  pofTefs  what  we  but  long  for  here, 

To  you  is  fung 
The  fong  that  ne'er  through  mortal  ears  hath  rung. 

Who  is  there  that  would  not  gladly  die, 
Changing  earth  for  fuch  a  home  on  high, 

Or  who  would  Hay 
To  toil  amid  thefe  forrows  night  and  day? 

Come,  O  Chrift,  releafe  us  from  our  poft, 
Lead  us  quickly  hence  to  yonder  hoft, 

Whofe  battle  won, 
Now  drink  in  joy  and  blifs  from  Thee  our  Sun. 

Simon  Dach.     i6«to. 


INDEX. 

The  numbers  on  the  left  hand  are  the  numbers  of  the 
original  hymns  in  the  "  Verfuch  eines  allgemeinen 
Gefang  und  Gebet  Buchs,"  from  which  thefe  hymns 
are  translated. 


No. 
170. 
151. 
135- 


493- 
627. 


Ah  wounded  Head !  Mull  Thou  . 

Alas,  dear  Lord,  what  evil  haft  Thou  done 

All  ye  Gentile  lands  awake ! 

Am  I  a  ftranger  here,  on  earth  alone 

Awake,  O  man,  and  from  thee  make 

Awake,  thou  carelefs  world,  awake 

Awake,  Thou  Spirit,  who  of  old  . 


428.  Be  thou  content  .... 

532.   Chrift,  Thou  the  champion  of  the  band 
787.  Come,  brethren,  let  us  go     . 
741.  Come  deck  our  feaft  to-day  . 
211.  Come,  Holy  Spirit,  God  and  Lord 
24.  Come,  my  foul,  awake,  'tis  morning 
216.  Come  to  Thy  temple  here  on  earth 
468.  Cometh  funfhine  after  rain    . 

23.  Day-fpring  of  Eternity 
824.  Dear  foul,  couldft  thou  become  a  child 

839.  Eternity!  Eternity!      . 

239.  Fear  not,  O  little  flock,  the  foe 

403.  Follow  me,  in  me  ye  live 

924.  From  heaven  above  to  earth  I  come 


Page 

80 
11 
3° 
57 
61 

4 

4i 

156 

105 
161 
no 
117 
216 

113 
100 

219 
*9 

24 

17 

188 

12 


256  3nitx. 

580.  Great  High-prieft  who  deigndft  to  be 

436.  God  liveth  ever! 

235.  God  is  our  ftronghold  firm  and  fure 

15.  God  who  madeft  earth  and  heaven 

884.  God!  whom  I  as  love  have  known 

638.  Go  and  dig  my  grave  to-day 

847.  Go  forth,  my  heart,  and  feek  delight 

480.  Heart  and  heart  together  bound  . 
788.  Heavenward  doth  our  journey  tend 
292.  Here,  O  my  God,  I  call  me  at  Thy  feet 

87.  Hofanna  to  the  Son  of  David  !  Raife 

*  How  bleft  to  all  Thy  followers,  Lord,  the 

road        .... 

76.  How  lhall  I  meet  Thee?  How  my  heart 

780.  If  Thou,  True  Life,  wilt  in  me  live 
429.  If  God  be  on  my  fide  . 
179.  In  the  bonds  of  death  He  lay 

48 1 .  In  the  midft  of  life,  behold   . 
800.  I  will  not  let  Thee  go  . 

194.  Jefus  my  Redeemer  lives 

877.  Leave  all  to  God 

435.  Leave  God  to  order  all  thy  ways  . 

412.  Let  who  will  in  thee  rejoice. 
79.  Lift  up  your  heads  ye  mighty  gates 

141.  Light  of  the  Gentile  world    . 

708.  Long  in  the  fpirit  world  my  foul  had  fough 

482.  Lord  Jefus  Chrift,  true  Man  and  God 
734.  Lord,  on  earth  I  dwell  in  pain 
152.  Lord!  Thy  death  and  paffion  give 
497.  Loving  Shepherd,  kind  and  true     . 

825.  Many  a  gift  did  Chrift  impart 

413.  Moft  High  and  Holy  Trinity ! 

*  No.  156  in  the  fmaller  collection. 


jhtite*. 


257 


914.  My  God!  lo  here  before  Thy  face 
907.  My  God,  to  Thee  I  now  commend 
761.   My  Saviour,  what  Thou  didft  of  old 


291. 
912. 

5*- 

473- 
346- 
414. 

727. 

739- 
219. 

"3- 

3°- 
240. 
846. 
632. 
402. 

394- 
882. 

747- 
282. 

233- 
777> 


78. 

316. 

806. 


Nothing  fair  on  earth  I  fee    . 
Not  in  anger  fmite  us,  Lord 
Now  refts  her  foul  in  Jefu's  arms    . 
Now  reft  the  woods  again 

O  Crofs,  we  hail  thy  bitter  reign  . 
O  Friend  of  fouls,  how  well  is  me 
O  God,  I  long  Thy  light  to  fee     . 
O  Glorious  Head:  Thou  liveft  now 
O  God,  O  Spirit,  Light  of  all  that  live 
O  Holy  Ghoft,  Thou  Fire  Divine 
O  Thou  EiTential  Word 
O  watchman,  will  the  night  of  fin    . 
Oh  how  blefled,  faithful  fouls,  are  ye 
Oh  would  I  had  a  thoufand  tongues 
Oh  weep  not,  mourn  not  o'er  this  bier 
Oh  well  for  him  who  all  things  braves 
One  thing  is  needful     . 
Once  more  from  reft  I  rife  again    . 
On  wings  of  faith,  ye  thoughts  fly  hence 
Out  of  the  depths  I  cry  to  Thee    . 

Praife  and  thanks  to  Thee  be  fung 
Pure  EfTence !  Spotlefs  Fount  of  Light 

Reft  of  the  weary  !  Thou     . 
Redeemer  of  the  nations !  Come    . 

Shall  I  not  fing  praife  to  Thee 
Strive,  when  thou  art  call'd  of  God 


:o2.  Thee,  O  Immanuel,  we  praife 
60.  The  day  expires  . 


33 
245 

53 
48 

55 
250 
226 

'54 
'47 

H5 

89 

140 

103 

15 

1 
252 
170 
249 
167 
183 
220 
121 

65 
205 

43 

85 
186 

200 
46 

28 
228 


No.  73  in  the  fmaller  collection. 


258 


Juki*. 


19. 

46. 
697. 
640. 
865. 
165. 

34°- 

372. 

663. 
855. 

352- 
795- 

154. 
888. 
667. 
460. 
807. 
812. 

449. 
501. 


The  golden  funbeams  . 

The  happy  funfhine  all  is  gone 

The  moon  hath  rifen  on  high 

Then  I  have  conquered ;  then  at  laft 

Though  all  to  Thee  were  faithlefs . 

Thou  Holieft  Love,  whom  moll  I  love 

Thou  weepeft  o'er  Jerufalem 

Thy  Word,  O  Lord,  like  gentle  dews 

Welcome,  Thou  vittor  in  the  ftrife 
Well  for  him  who  all  things  lofing 
What  had  I  been  if  Thou  wert  not 
What  within  me  and  without 
When  forrow  and  remorfe     . 
When  the  laft  agony  draws  nigh     . 
Who  are  thofe  before  God's  Throne 
Who  feeks  in  weaknefs  an  excufe  . 
Why  halteft  thus,  deluded  heart     . 
Wouldft  thou  inherit  life  with  Chrift 

Yea,  my  fpirit  fain  would  fink 
Yes,  there  remaineth  yet  a  reft 


214 
225 
229 

243 
165 

83 
70 

36 

9i 

"34 

06 

126 

74 

239 
207 

149 

142 
129 

198 
195 


THE  END. 


